It was early morning in Neo-Roma, with the Canopy sitting above the city, free to enjoy the beautiful view of the star-dotted sky. It was times like these that the residents of the Upper Level were sound asleep, or taking in the fresh morning air. Far below into the Under-City however, a man in ragged clothing dashed through the dark alleyways, clutching a handgun, and running for his life.
He stopped for a moment and scanned his surroundings as quickly as he could. The windows of the buildings around him were all dark, and there wasn't a soul in sight. That didn't make him feel better though, he knew that his assailant was still hunting him down. He raced down an alley to the right, his head darting in all the different directions his neck could turn. Yet, he still didn't know where his hunter was.
A metal scrap fell over from an alley to his left. the man stopped in his tracks and pointed his weapon into the darkness. There were no vermin that made noise from the alleyway, so that meant there was someone there.
He walked slowly towards the pitch-black alley, his hands shaking with fear as he held the gun. "Come out! I've got a gun pointed right at your face, and I'll sure as hell blow it off your neck if you don't drop your weapons now!" The man said, hoping that his bluff on being able to see in the dark would work.
Crouching in the darkness, a hooded man wearing protective gear and armed with submachine gun, lied in wait. Croteus adjusted his optical augments. He heard the man's threats, but he knew that he was bluffing; the handgun was pointed nowhere near his head (or Croteus himself for that matter). "Come out now! I'm giving you until the count of three! One..." The frantic man said. Croteus raised his SMG.
Croteus' eyes locked onto the man's hands.
"Thre- ARGH!" The man exclaimed as Croteus' bullet embedded itself into the man's hands.
Croteus quickly emerged from the darkness and hit the man with the butt of his SMG, knocking his target to the ground. The handgun fell a few feet away from them; Croteus kicked it away. The man on the ground whimpered pathetically as the mercenary pointed his gun at his head. "So, this is little Willy. The right hand man of the 'Riley's Rowdies' gang. Or at least what's left of it. You gave the guards the slip when they raided your safehouse, but you and a few others, along with Big Riley, managed to run off with the money you stole. One of your victims wants it back. The Weary Spicer bar I think it was... So tell me, where is the money?" Croteus told him.
"The money's with Big Riley! He and what's left of the gang are hiding out in the southern district." Little Willy replied.
"Be more specific!" Croteus demanded, firing a silenced shot a few inches away from Willy's head. "Oh God! Ok, ok! They're in the abandoned warehouse where the Nightshade Mob got busted years ago. That's all I know. Please, let me go!" Willy pleaded. Croteus paused for a moment. He knew where that warehouse was. It was the same warehouse that his father raided. The raid that caused the people his father called friends to kill him for. He snapped out of memory lane quickly though, he had a job to do right now.
"Let you go? So you can warn your gang ahead of time. I don't think so..." Croteus said ominously."No! I swear I wont tell anyone!" Willy begged. "I know you wont..." Croteus replied as he smashed Little Wily's head with the butt of his gun again, knocking the man out cold.
Hopefully, that'll scare him from getting his hands dirty ever again Croteus thought to himself as he headed back out of the tight alleyways, and onto the main road where his beige motorcycle was parked. He pulled on his jacket which hung from the motorcycle, and concealed his weapons and armor beneath it. He then got onto his vehicle, and joined the cars that sped through the highway as the sun began to rise.
With luck, I'll have the money my client's looking for, just in time for breakfast.