Post by Deleted on Feb 19, 2017 2:35:06 GMT -5
Sitting at a small table in the Earth city of Metro West, or simply West City as many of the inhabitants called it. Wice Yudding sat in silence as he watched the many dozens, if not hundreds of people pass him by. Each human, zoanthrope, Kistune, Saiyan, and any one of a dozen races all went about their daily lives. None of them seemed to take notice of Wice, not as a whole at least. The few that were drawn to Wice’s appearance were almost entirely female, most turning to their companions to whisper something and giggle before continuing along their paths. The feeling of animinity, of being ignored was a new feeling for Wice. On planet Brench Wice’s half blood features turned dozens of scornful eyes his way, he was viewed with open hatred by most back home.
Earth was so different, the technology was older, but Wice had never been allowed advanced Brenchian tech do to his status as a slave. So the many marvels of Earth were still amazing to the young man. The differences didn’t end with the technology however, on Earth dozens of races seemed to live in a state of peace. From what Wice had seen none lorded themselves over others, and half breeds were equally as common as full bloods. To witness such equality was truly breathtaking for him… It was also infuriating. Life just seemed so easy on Earth, easy in a manner that made Wice’s life on Brench only that much more cruel. Having crash landed on Earth nearly two weeks ago Wice had seen no slavery, no war, no violence… at least none that hadn’t been caused by him.
Wice didn’t know what had caused Master Julice’s…. No, he wasn’t Wice’s master anymore. Wice didn’t know what had caused his father Julice’s ship to jettison the slave’s hyper sleep pods, but Wice was glad for the mysterious gift. Thinking back to his rough landing Wice had been found and freed from the wreckage by a trio of goons. The men had been armed with weapons known to Wice only as ‘slugthrowers’, a ancient model of arm cannon that expelled fast moving metal instead of energy. Despite their armament the men had been nothing but kind to Wice, they had treated his wounds minor as they were and offered him food. Yet they had to spoil it by saying they would call some people called the ‘police’. Apparently these boys in blue would have helped Wice find his way home. That was something Wice was never going to let happen, the first two men dropped fast and painlessly as Wice snuck up behind them and planted a conjured knife in their backs. The third man had taken more effort, he was aware enough to catch Wice’s approach, the man had even tagged Wice with one of his ‘slugs’. Those metal rounds left a hell of a bruise to Wice’s leg, but it wasn’t enough to stop the half breed from putting an arrow through the man’s eye.
After the slaughter Wice had robbed the dead men, taking a fair helping of zeni for his troubles as Wice fled into the dark of night. Two weeks later Wice was down to his bottom dollar as it were, Earth was so peaceful but was one hell of an expensive place to live. Having spoken with the locals of West City Wice had been able to learn that human’s kept their zeni in a place called a bank. Whether it was Wice’s appearance or his age people here seemed perfectly comfortable talking with him, giving away details to his questions freely. For some reason this trick was especially easy with women around his age, Wice had gone days before realizing he was considered ‘cute’ by Earth standards. It was still too easy for Wice to think of his appearance like he was back on planet Brench, but he was slowly learning to utilize his looks here on Earth, anything that he could use to his advantage was best to be put into practice.
Through his information gathering Wice had learned of the bank across the street from him now, West City Second National Bank. The place was said to be the second largest bank in the city, containing hundreds of thousands of zeni at any given time. On the downside the place was flooded with people at any given time, Wice had been watching the day to day operations for three days now and the place was never empty, not even at night. At best the building was minimally manned during the night and the early morning hours. It was all too much however, thick walls, guards and a ever changing influx of people; the place was a fortress that seemed nearly impossible to crack. At least if he did it alone, while talking to others Wice had learned that the bank was robbed about twice a year, sometimes the robbery was a success, sometimes not. Each attempted however used a team of four to five criminals.
Wice found himself wishing some of the other slaves from his father’s ship had crashed along side his own, but since that wasn’t the case Wice was left with a single option. He needed to find some bad men, the kind that wouldn’t bat an eye to committing a little crime. Turning his attention back to the table he was seated at Wice finished his drink, something called a latte. Whatever was in the tan-brown liquid it tasted both bitter and sweet at the same time, it also spiked up Wice’s focus and attention span for a time, making him really feel the need to do something physical. After three days of securing this very table to scope out the bank Wice had drank a lot of latte’s and had learned that the rush of the stuff wore off after about forty minutes, a depressing after effect to be sure, yet Wice kept drinking the stuff. Setting his now empty mug down on the table Wice tossed down his last zeni coin, leaving him with almost nothing now. Before he could walk away Wice noticed something on the soft paper that had come with his drink, it was a seven digit series of numbers with a name scrawled under it, ‘Lacy’ it read. Wice had no idea what the numbers meant, but he was certain his waitresses name had been Lacy? With a shrug Wice shoved the napkin into one of his pockets as he took his leave.
Melding into a group of people that walked in a single direction down the sidewalk Wice tried to think of his best means for meeting up with criminals. The young man had ideas, but actually finding bad people was a lot harder on Earth than Wice would have believed it to be. At best the man could only think of his father, the worst man he knew. If Julice was looking to put together a group of people how would he do it? The first and obvious thought was slave trading, yet Wice had yet to spot any slaves on Earth, which severely limited his ability to find a slaver. The idea wasn’t for nothing however as thoughts of Julice played through his mind like a horrible film, the man was a drinker, gambler, womanizer, and thief… and all this was what he did in his spare time between PTO assignment. It gave Wice a place to start though, he was looking for the bottom of the barrel, the scum of Earth. In Wice’s two weeks in the city he had been warned of areas to avoid, now seemed the perfect time for him to give those places a visit.
Turning west Wice began his long walk to the rundown portion of West City, funny enough the worst place in the area was the west side of town. Wice could only wonder at the irony of such a coincidence? The farther Wice walked the more the city began to change before his very eyes, clean and shiny buildings standing like towers morphed into squat plain brick and mortar, eventually becoming more and more covered with dirt. The street itself went from pristine to growing evermore cracked and ruined, even the people started to change. Fine clothes and business attire transformed into simple clothes worn for comfort, which changed slowly into rags and mismatched scraps, assembled to complete otherwise unpaired attire. When Wice travelled far enough west into the metro he became aware of the effluvial grime that coated the walls and streets, he had reached a place unclean and unkempt, a place that reminded him of the conditions he endured with the slave pens on Brench.
The crowd had fallen away long ago, leaving Wice walking streets that appeared empty, but were actually full of life to those with the knowledge to spot it. The trash that lined alleyways were people’s homes, the deserted and crumbling buildings housed squatters, often dozens at a time. In a place such as this Wice knew the open street was empty, but the back roads and tight alleys hid a brethren of people whom kept to the darkness; it held the people Wice was looking for now. So after a while Wice made a sudden turn and left the street, entering into the gloom and shadows of a alley. At first nothing stirred, but as Wice strode deeper into the unknown his keen ears could pick up the hushed breath, the quiet movements. It wasn’t too long before Wice felt a rough hand tug the cloth of his shoulder, nor the gruff voice of a man behind him. “What you doing here little man? Are you lost… you must be lost? Tell you what, why don’t you give me all your zeni and I’ll walk you out of here? Nice and easy like.”
The stranger couldn’t see the soft smile that came to Wice’s face, if he could perhaps the man would have been smart enough to run. “I’m afraid I don’t have any zeni, but I’ll make a deal with you nonetheless. Why don’t you give me all of your zeni, than tell me where I can find the guy who runs this area? If you do I promise you will get to walk out of this alley pain free.” Wice said turning around to face the stranger, a huge man with a tuff of green hair atop his largely sloped forehead. The thug had quite a belly on him, but his arms were thicker around than both of Wice’s thighs put together, and his size was massive in scale. The stranger stood an impressive eight feet tall, towering over the five foot six half breed. Wice couldn’t know for sure, but the man looked to be a Humonguloid, an alien race of giants that often worked alongside Brenchians with the PTO. Beyond his huge size and the stupor etched along his face the man seemed human enough, but Wice felt sure the man was at least half Humonguloid. The stranger was dressed in rags and held a long block of wood in one hand, a 4x4 that he had clearly taken to using as a club from some of the stains Wice could spot along it’s edge.
“HA Ha ha, you funny little man. For that Gomo no crush you. Now give me your zeni- AYWAY!!!” the huge man said reaching forward again with his empty hand, only for his words to be cut off by a pain filled shriek. A dagger had been shoved through the thugs palm, it’s glinting steel blade reflecting some of the minimal light throughout the alley. “I warned you.” was all Wice could say in reply as he jumped to the left, his feet struck the brick wall to one side of the alley and pushed off hard, allowing Wice to jump high enough into the air to become level with Gomo’s thick head. A flash of blue light sparked in Wice’s palm before he materialized a small hammer in his hand, with a hard smack the iron head of the weapon struck Gomo in his right temple with a clack like two stones being rammed together. The rag dressed Gomo swung wildly with his thick club, but the improvised wooden beam passed harmlessly low and Wice stuck out a leg to kick off the wooden beam mid swing. Kicking off into the air for a second time Wice slammed his hammer home to Gomo’s left temple this time, the blow causing the Humonguloid to cross his eyes and fall backwards onto his rump.
Landing lightly on his feet Wice looked at his blood soaked hammer in shock, Gomo was very clearly dazed and injured, but the man was still fully conscious as he sat back on his large rear. “You fight good little man, Gomo take you to big boss man like you says. Though he may make Gomo squash you after.” the Humonguloid said with his eyes still crossed and twin stains of blood running down the sides of his skull just below his tuft of green hair. The frighteningly calm giant moved to push himself to his feet, until he tried using his impaled hand as a brace to stand. Looking to his palm in confusion for a moment the giant simply ripped the blade free of his skin, only widening the wound farther as he did. “Little man want tiny blade back?” Gomo asked, too which Wice could only wordlessly shake his head. “You keep it. I feel like it should be yours now.” Wice finally said as Gomo just continued to stare at him in wait for an answer. The Humonguloid smiled and tucked the tiny blade away into his rags before standing up and leading Wice out of the alley.
Wice followed the huge man with caution, but this stranger Gomo didn’t exactly strike Wice as the kind of man to set a trap. Plus Gomo had just lived through two blows to the skull that should have killed him, if the giant wished to end Wice’s life the Konatsian half breed wasn’t so certain he could stop him. Gomo lead Wice much farther down the main road before travelling across a series of alleys and even cutting through an abandoned building or two, finally the pair reached a back alleyway with nothing but a few boxes and a thick steel grate that covered a water tunnel carved into the earth. “We go into sewers so that you can meet Mr. Under.” Gomo said as he grabbed the grate with one large hand and heaved, the metal squealed with strain before being shifted free and moved out of the way. “Sewers huh? That’s what Earth calls them.” Wice said as he climbed down after Gomo, who only laughed back at Wice. “Yeah, sewers… Gomo didn’t know you stupid enough to not know sewers.” the big man said chuckling as he lead Wice through the tunnels.
After what felt like a hard thirty minutes of walking the pair emerged into a wide underground room, a nexus of myriad tunnels connecting through this one roomy location. Nearly two dozen people were gathered in the sewer, most of them appeared to be human but a few were clearly aliens. Wice spotted at least two Goburins, one Puhian, and in the center of the room upon a throne sat a tall, thin creature with blue skin. The Supidoan was instantly recognizable to Wice having lived all his life on planet Brench, the aliens were heavy allies to the Brenchians and Wice was amazed to see one living life here on Earth as a pauper king. Gomo placed a hand on Wice’s shoulder and silently guided him into a line, a line that would eventually bring him to the Supidoan. When the line finally was dismissed one after another Wice found himself face to face with the large blue lizard man.
“Boss, this little man fights real good like. Look what he did to Gomo’s face.” Gomo said when it was their turn before the makeshift throne. The Humonguloid leaned in so that the Supidoan could see the wounds on either side of his skull. Turning to face Wice the Supidoan’s tongue flicked in and out of his mouth with impatience. “Why did you assault my man?” he asked, all eyes in the room turning to Wice. “He tried to rob me. So I tried to rob him back.” Wice said feigning a level of confidence he did not actually feel. The room stayed silent for several heart pounding moments, until the Supidoan began to laugh. The rest of the room followed the lizard mans lead and soon everyone was laughing. After a few moments however everyone died down when the Supidoan raised a hand up to silence the room. “How would you like to work for me? I promise you being a part of Mr. Under’s crew comes with a shocking bit of zeni for you. Especially if you prove good enough to be on the bank crew.” Mr. Under said than with a hiss in his voice.
Wice perked up immediately at the word bank, he doubted he had found the people that had robbed the bank last year, but these people at least hinted at making an attempt themselves. “If I may ask, why do you want me?” Wice asked, looking into Mr. Under’s pupiless red eyes. “For one thing you smacked Gomo up pretty good, few of my men could do such a thing. As for my second reason… you're a cold blooded killer boy. I can see it in your eyes. I’d rather have eyes like those with me, not against me. So what do you say?” Mr. Under replied reaching a hand out from his throne to receive Wice’s answer. The Konatsian half breed took a cautious step forward and shook the Supidoan’s hand than with a friendly smile on his face. “Yes.”
End.
WC: 3,060
Medium Weighted Clothes: ON
PL: 3,907 (1,954)
PL Please
Earth was so different, the technology was older, but Wice had never been allowed advanced Brenchian tech do to his status as a slave. So the many marvels of Earth were still amazing to the young man. The differences didn’t end with the technology however, on Earth dozens of races seemed to live in a state of peace. From what Wice had seen none lorded themselves over others, and half breeds were equally as common as full bloods. To witness such equality was truly breathtaking for him… It was also infuriating. Life just seemed so easy on Earth, easy in a manner that made Wice’s life on Brench only that much more cruel. Having crash landed on Earth nearly two weeks ago Wice had seen no slavery, no war, no violence… at least none that hadn’t been caused by him.
Wice didn’t know what had caused Master Julice’s…. No, he wasn’t Wice’s master anymore. Wice didn’t know what had caused his father Julice’s ship to jettison the slave’s hyper sleep pods, but Wice was glad for the mysterious gift. Thinking back to his rough landing Wice had been found and freed from the wreckage by a trio of goons. The men had been armed with weapons known to Wice only as ‘slugthrowers’, a ancient model of arm cannon that expelled fast moving metal instead of energy. Despite their armament the men had been nothing but kind to Wice, they had treated his wounds minor as they were and offered him food. Yet they had to spoil it by saying they would call some people called the ‘police’. Apparently these boys in blue would have helped Wice find his way home. That was something Wice was never going to let happen, the first two men dropped fast and painlessly as Wice snuck up behind them and planted a conjured knife in their backs. The third man had taken more effort, he was aware enough to catch Wice’s approach, the man had even tagged Wice with one of his ‘slugs’. Those metal rounds left a hell of a bruise to Wice’s leg, but it wasn’t enough to stop the half breed from putting an arrow through the man’s eye.
After the slaughter Wice had robbed the dead men, taking a fair helping of zeni for his troubles as Wice fled into the dark of night. Two weeks later Wice was down to his bottom dollar as it were, Earth was so peaceful but was one hell of an expensive place to live. Having spoken with the locals of West City Wice had been able to learn that human’s kept their zeni in a place called a bank. Whether it was Wice’s appearance or his age people here seemed perfectly comfortable talking with him, giving away details to his questions freely. For some reason this trick was especially easy with women around his age, Wice had gone days before realizing he was considered ‘cute’ by Earth standards. It was still too easy for Wice to think of his appearance like he was back on planet Brench, but he was slowly learning to utilize his looks here on Earth, anything that he could use to his advantage was best to be put into practice.
Through his information gathering Wice had learned of the bank across the street from him now, West City Second National Bank. The place was said to be the second largest bank in the city, containing hundreds of thousands of zeni at any given time. On the downside the place was flooded with people at any given time, Wice had been watching the day to day operations for three days now and the place was never empty, not even at night. At best the building was minimally manned during the night and the early morning hours. It was all too much however, thick walls, guards and a ever changing influx of people; the place was a fortress that seemed nearly impossible to crack. At least if he did it alone, while talking to others Wice had learned that the bank was robbed about twice a year, sometimes the robbery was a success, sometimes not. Each attempted however used a team of four to five criminals.
Wice found himself wishing some of the other slaves from his father’s ship had crashed along side his own, but since that wasn’t the case Wice was left with a single option. He needed to find some bad men, the kind that wouldn’t bat an eye to committing a little crime. Turning his attention back to the table he was seated at Wice finished his drink, something called a latte. Whatever was in the tan-brown liquid it tasted both bitter and sweet at the same time, it also spiked up Wice’s focus and attention span for a time, making him really feel the need to do something physical. After three days of securing this very table to scope out the bank Wice had drank a lot of latte’s and had learned that the rush of the stuff wore off after about forty minutes, a depressing after effect to be sure, yet Wice kept drinking the stuff. Setting his now empty mug down on the table Wice tossed down his last zeni coin, leaving him with almost nothing now. Before he could walk away Wice noticed something on the soft paper that had come with his drink, it was a seven digit series of numbers with a name scrawled under it, ‘Lacy’ it read. Wice had no idea what the numbers meant, but he was certain his waitresses name had been Lacy? With a shrug Wice shoved the napkin into one of his pockets as he took his leave.
Melding into a group of people that walked in a single direction down the sidewalk Wice tried to think of his best means for meeting up with criminals. The young man had ideas, but actually finding bad people was a lot harder on Earth than Wice would have believed it to be. At best the man could only think of his father, the worst man he knew. If Julice was looking to put together a group of people how would he do it? The first and obvious thought was slave trading, yet Wice had yet to spot any slaves on Earth, which severely limited his ability to find a slaver. The idea wasn’t for nothing however as thoughts of Julice played through his mind like a horrible film, the man was a drinker, gambler, womanizer, and thief… and all this was what he did in his spare time between PTO assignment. It gave Wice a place to start though, he was looking for the bottom of the barrel, the scum of Earth. In Wice’s two weeks in the city he had been warned of areas to avoid, now seemed the perfect time for him to give those places a visit.
Turning west Wice began his long walk to the rundown portion of West City, funny enough the worst place in the area was the west side of town. Wice could only wonder at the irony of such a coincidence? The farther Wice walked the more the city began to change before his very eyes, clean and shiny buildings standing like towers morphed into squat plain brick and mortar, eventually becoming more and more covered with dirt. The street itself went from pristine to growing evermore cracked and ruined, even the people started to change. Fine clothes and business attire transformed into simple clothes worn for comfort, which changed slowly into rags and mismatched scraps, assembled to complete otherwise unpaired attire. When Wice travelled far enough west into the metro he became aware of the effluvial grime that coated the walls and streets, he had reached a place unclean and unkempt, a place that reminded him of the conditions he endured with the slave pens on Brench.
The crowd had fallen away long ago, leaving Wice walking streets that appeared empty, but were actually full of life to those with the knowledge to spot it. The trash that lined alleyways were people’s homes, the deserted and crumbling buildings housed squatters, often dozens at a time. In a place such as this Wice knew the open street was empty, but the back roads and tight alleys hid a brethren of people whom kept to the darkness; it held the people Wice was looking for now. So after a while Wice made a sudden turn and left the street, entering into the gloom and shadows of a alley. At first nothing stirred, but as Wice strode deeper into the unknown his keen ears could pick up the hushed breath, the quiet movements. It wasn’t too long before Wice felt a rough hand tug the cloth of his shoulder, nor the gruff voice of a man behind him. “What you doing here little man? Are you lost… you must be lost? Tell you what, why don’t you give me all your zeni and I’ll walk you out of here? Nice and easy like.”
The stranger couldn’t see the soft smile that came to Wice’s face, if he could perhaps the man would have been smart enough to run. “I’m afraid I don’t have any zeni, but I’ll make a deal with you nonetheless. Why don’t you give me all of your zeni, than tell me where I can find the guy who runs this area? If you do I promise you will get to walk out of this alley pain free.” Wice said turning around to face the stranger, a huge man with a tuff of green hair atop his largely sloped forehead. The thug had quite a belly on him, but his arms were thicker around than both of Wice’s thighs put together, and his size was massive in scale. The stranger stood an impressive eight feet tall, towering over the five foot six half breed. Wice couldn’t know for sure, but the man looked to be a Humonguloid, an alien race of giants that often worked alongside Brenchians with the PTO. Beyond his huge size and the stupor etched along his face the man seemed human enough, but Wice felt sure the man was at least half Humonguloid. The stranger was dressed in rags and held a long block of wood in one hand, a 4x4 that he had clearly taken to using as a club from some of the stains Wice could spot along it’s edge.
“HA Ha ha, you funny little man. For that Gomo no crush you. Now give me your zeni- AYWAY!!!” the huge man said reaching forward again with his empty hand, only for his words to be cut off by a pain filled shriek. A dagger had been shoved through the thugs palm, it’s glinting steel blade reflecting some of the minimal light throughout the alley. “I warned you.” was all Wice could say in reply as he jumped to the left, his feet struck the brick wall to one side of the alley and pushed off hard, allowing Wice to jump high enough into the air to become level with Gomo’s thick head. A flash of blue light sparked in Wice’s palm before he materialized a small hammer in his hand, with a hard smack the iron head of the weapon struck Gomo in his right temple with a clack like two stones being rammed together. The rag dressed Gomo swung wildly with his thick club, but the improvised wooden beam passed harmlessly low and Wice stuck out a leg to kick off the wooden beam mid swing. Kicking off into the air for a second time Wice slammed his hammer home to Gomo’s left temple this time, the blow causing the Humonguloid to cross his eyes and fall backwards onto his rump.
Landing lightly on his feet Wice looked at his blood soaked hammer in shock, Gomo was very clearly dazed and injured, but the man was still fully conscious as he sat back on his large rear. “You fight good little man, Gomo take you to big boss man like you says. Though he may make Gomo squash you after.” the Humonguloid said with his eyes still crossed and twin stains of blood running down the sides of his skull just below his tuft of green hair. The frighteningly calm giant moved to push himself to his feet, until he tried using his impaled hand as a brace to stand. Looking to his palm in confusion for a moment the giant simply ripped the blade free of his skin, only widening the wound farther as he did. “Little man want tiny blade back?” Gomo asked, too which Wice could only wordlessly shake his head. “You keep it. I feel like it should be yours now.” Wice finally said as Gomo just continued to stare at him in wait for an answer. The Humonguloid smiled and tucked the tiny blade away into his rags before standing up and leading Wice out of the alley.
Wice followed the huge man with caution, but this stranger Gomo didn’t exactly strike Wice as the kind of man to set a trap. Plus Gomo had just lived through two blows to the skull that should have killed him, if the giant wished to end Wice’s life the Konatsian half breed wasn’t so certain he could stop him. Gomo lead Wice much farther down the main road before travelling across a series of alleys and even cutting through an abandoned building or two, finally the pair reached a back alleyway with nothing but a few boxes and a thick steel grate that covered a water tunnel carved into the earth. “We go into sewers so that you can meet Mr. Under.” Gomo said as he grabbed the grate with one large hand and heaved, the metal squealed with strain before being shifted free and moved out of the way. “Sewers huh? That’s what Earth calls them.” Wice said as he climbed down after Gomo, who only laughed back at Wice. “Yeah, sewers… Gomo didn’t know you stupid enough to not know sewers.” the big man said chuckling as he lead Wice through the tunnels.
After what felt like a hard thirty minutes of walking the pair emerged into a wide underground room, a nexus of myriad tunnels connecting through this one roomy location. Nearly two dozen people were gathered in the sewer, most of them appeared to be human but a few were clearly aliens. Wice spotted at least two Goburins, one Puhian, and in the center of the room upon a throne sat a tall, thin creature with blue skin. The Supidoan was instantly recognizable to Wice having lived all his life on planet Brench, the aliens were heavy allies to the Brenchians and Wice was amazed to see one living life here on Earth as a pauper king. Gomo placed a hand on Wice’s shoulder and silently guided him into a line, a line that would eventually bring him to the Supidoan. When the line finally was dismissed one after another Wice found himself face to face with the large blue lizard man.
“Boss, this little man fights real good like. Look what he did to Gomo’s face.” Gomo said when it was their turn before the makeshift throne. The Humonguloid leaned in so that the Supidoan could see the wounds on either side of his skull. Turning to face Wice the Supidoan’s tongue flicked in and out of his mouth with impatience. “Why did you assault my man?” he asked, all eyes in the room turning to Wice. “He tried to rob me. So I tried to rob him back.” Wice said feigning a level of confidence he did not actually feel. The room stayed silent for several heart pounding moments, until the Supidoan began to laugh. The rest of the room followed the lizard mans lead and soon everyone was laughing. After a few moments however everyone died down when the Supidoan raised a hand up to silence the room. “How would you like to work for me? I promise you being a part of Mr. Under’s crew comes with a shocking bit of zeni for you. Especially if you prove good enough to be on the bank crew.” Mr. Under said than with a hiss in his voice.
Wice perked up immediately at the word bank, he doubted he had found the people that had robbed the bank last year, but these people at least hinted at making an attempt themselves. “If I may ask, why do you want me?” Wice asked, looking into Mr. Under’s pupiless red eyes. “For one thing you smacked Gomo up pretty good, few of my men could do such a thing. As for my second reason… you're a cold blooded killer boy. I can see it in your eyes. I’d rather have eyes like those with me, not against me. So what do you say?” Mr. Under replied reaching a hand out from his throne to receive Wice’s answer. The Konatsian half breed took a cautious step forward and shook the Supidoan’s hand than with a friendly smile on his face. “Yes.”
End.
WC: 3,060
Medium Weighted Clothes: ON
PL: 3,907 (1,954)
PL Please