2.04

Lord Street Market was lively as always, especially on a weekend. Walking amongst the crowd of hurrying adults, flirting couples and obnoxious teenage groups was a pain. I looked around for my objective, but caught sight of a girl with red hair, which made me stop and nearly curse out loud. Fucking Emma is here! I looked for the cliques of girls around the redhead, but didn't see the other two. The redhead turned and walked into one of the stores, giving me a good glimpse of her face.

I sighed in relief when I saw it wasn't her. I pushed my hands into my hoodie pockets and groaned, walking forward once more. I'm way too tense if I'm getting worried about bullies now. Shaking my head I looked up at the darkening sky.

I've been out for almost the entire day, and I should be heading back home soon. Dad would worry if I didn't get back, even if he wouldn't scold me or say anything. I didn't want to abuse dad's laxness too much.

Hurrying my steps I saw Fugly Bob's come into view. It was overlooking the beach, the last rays of the light of day illuminating the front of the restaurant. Still, the inside was incredibly dark. It looked shabby and slightly dirty. It really did give the impression of the food-joint being abandoned, the restaurant may be closed, but its chef sure is still happily cooking back at home. All that greasy, heart-wrecking junk. I stopped in front of the restaurant and leaned forward, looking inside.

I had eaten here a few times in the past, heavy emphasis on the few. The specialty of this restaurant had the ability to kill, of that I was more than sure. Especially after entering Bob's apartment; it really did give off the image of a guy who poured grease. Shaking my head I focused on the task at hand. No time to waste. I peeked inside, seeing the dark restaurant and it was just as I remembered. Greasy, with a homey feel to it so you would eat to your heart's content.

I focused on the back, where the bar was. Through there I could enter the kitchen and find my target—

"Hey!" I flinched away from the window and turned to look at an armed enforcer. He had a grave expression, bearded face and sunglasses, the black bulletproof vest and gun holsters around his legs making him appear bigger and more intimidating. "That restaurant is closed, so move along."

"I was just—!"

"Miss, the owner has specifically requested that we keep his business safe, so stand back and continue shopping. Otherwise we will have to remove you from the vicinity."

I had to hold my tongue that I was here because of the owner. Well, the guy who claim to be the owner anyway. Time away from strenuous situations could make one think more clearly. But still I frowned; why were the enforcers so touchy about this place? My stomach turned as I looked at the man. Could this guy and other enforcers be under the employ of The Man Who Sold The World? A cold chill went down my spine and I nodded. The man continued looking at me, so I turned and walked away.

Fuck. This made things oh so much more fucking complicated. I looked around and saw one, three, nine, fuck it, dozens of enforces all standing guard. And that wasn't even including the others around the market. It was quite obvious why the Market and Boardwalk were both crime free. These guys were the ones keeping the peace and I wanted to disrupt that.

Not like I had a choice, especially if they were working with The Man Who Sold The World. I bit my lip and groaned. I was becoming way too paranoid, I could admit that. Everywhere I looked, I couldn't help but connect something to that Man. Everyone felt like my enemy and it sucked, because it made me feel so fucking alone. But I needed to keep dad and my home protected, so it would be worth it.

Still I had to start from somewhere with getting allies, and Bob looked like someone I could probably use. So I couldn't let this issue with the enforcers become a setback. There was a laptop that needed finding and I would get it. If it shed some light on who my enemies were then I would fight tooth and nail against everyone. Fixing my hoodie, I looked around and walked around to the back of the Fugly Bob's restaurant.

A sigh escaped me. There wasn't anyone here. Good. I was obscured in darkness, the cool winds of the incoming night and the sound of crashing waves accompanying me. With the restaurant closed and unoccupied, there was no one to turn on the back lights, serving me perfectly. Pressing my hand against the wall and letting it slide, I winced as I felt the grime and coarseness of the walls, worn down by years of sea spray. Stopping as I felt the back door, I went for the knob and turned it.

Closed, of course. Biting my lips I cursed myself for not asking Bob for the key to his restaurant. It would've also helped confirm his claim of being the owner. But it was too late for regrets, all that was left was to move forward. Fortunes appeared beside me. I looked at her and frowned as I realized how light my arms felt. Out of power.

I would need to guard against something and quick; I didn't want the enforcers catching me in the act. Rummaging through my hoodie pockets turned up nothing, I went for my jeans, feeling a few quarters alongside the dollars I had on me. Pulling the coin out I pursed my lip. I better have a good aim and catch this thing. Crawling and looking for a quarter would definitely be embarrassing.

Flicking the coin up, I kept a careful eye on the small shine and immediately put the back of my right hand to "defend" against it. The arm came too quickly and it wasn't a Perfect Guard, and a second try failed as I missed my timing again. Working in the dark is more difficult than how it is in the movies. It took a couple more tries before I got a Perfect Guard. I frowned. It still wasn't enough power. I did it a couple of more times, and five minutes later I had stored enough energy.

Fortunes Of War moved quickly, putting her left hand on the door. "Go!" There was a loud noise as the door's lockset broke and slammed against the wall. I let out a curse as I heard something from the crowd. Whatever it was, I decided to let my paranoia fuel me as I moved inside the opened restaurant. I let out another curse; it was dark and I couldn't see anything. I didn't have any light source so I had to do this the hard way.

Stumbling through the dark and pressing against the walls I moved as quickly as I could. I felt a door, pushed it open and found a pitch black small room. Waving my hands to feel everything in front I winced when I felt the familiar shape of a toilet. Pulling back I continued moving, turning a corner and looking at the illuminated windows of the front of the restaurant.

"Fuck!" A crowd was starting to form and the enforcer who had told me off was speaking through his radio. I heard footsteps coming from the back. I had to move quickly. Recognizing that to the bar was to my left, I jumped over it. Landing on my knees I heard noise from the crowd and hurried steps from the back. Crouch-running now, with my heart hammering against my chest I entered into the kitchen. It was just as dark as the bathroom.

"Who's there!"

"Come out with your hands up!"

The security would find me in seconds. I moved forward as I raised my shirt over the lower side of my face. I needed to find that stove. My breath came out haggard, and despite the cold I was sweating. Stumbling in the dark with the noise of the security guards getting closer had me almost screaming—wait, my hand felt around a shape, and I knelt down as I realized that it was the stove.

The floor was dirty and sticky, but I didn't care as I reached underneath the stove. It was grimy, and I felt hardened grease getting between my nails, and my jacket was almost glued into the gelatinous waste. I was nearly gagging, tears in my eyes in disgust, and at the fact that I actually ate here. It was horrible, but I didn't complain as my fingers brushed against something.

A case…! Bob wasn't lying then, it was really here! I stretched my hand more, but I could only brush against the handle. I growled; Fortunes cane out and with her extended reach she grabbed the suitcase. I pulled out with some difficulty and had my Stand do the same. Fortunes Of War had to rip the suitcase out, the sticky grease almost acting like a super glue. The case scraped against the floor just as the kitchen door was ripped opened.

"Hands up!"

I looked back to see two enforcers with their handguns in one hand and flashlights in the other, pointing around the room. The light passed over me, and my heart stopped as the two focused on me.

"Stay still!" one of them said as they approached me, the light getting more intense as the flashlight got closer to my face. My heart was hammering against my chest as I saw the armed man reach for me. I can't get caught, I can't get caught! By pure instinct, the arm holding the suitcase moved and hit the enforcer right on the knee. "Fuck!"

He buckled, and I rolled out the way and let myself be cover in the darkness. A curse came from the other enforcer, the weapon moving and being trained on me as I got to my knee and looked up, feeling cold as I watched the gun point right at my head.

Wasn't I in a similar situation not a few hours ago? I heard a click and tensed up, Fortunes Of War appeared beside me. My eyesight became sharper, the light from the flashlight blinding me was pushed away and I saw the black bulletproof vest on the enforcer. I saw his sneer, his muscles tensing up and his trigger finger moved. My right arm rose up—

BANG!

A red flash formed around my and I lunged forward with my arm in front of me. The man recoiled, then shot at me three times. The first bullet that hit my arm had me gasping and my feet tangled up, but I didn't fall forward as the next two bullets hit me and sent me stumbling back. I bared my teeth, feeling the stinging pain.

It was so much different than with Daryll Oates. His Maneater could deliver powerful blows that could break walls with enough force. But these bullets hit hard and were precise on where they inflicted damage. And they also stung. I was breathing hard and my arm felt almost numb. Fuck, I can't already be throwing the towel here… I looked at the two Enforcers, the one who shot me approached me slowly.

"Target down, Grits confirm kill."

"Fucking son of a bitch." The one I hit with the case snarled and was on me. He grabbed the arm I was using to hold the case, then suddenly pulled his gun and aimed it at my face. "Still alive, better up—!"

"Go!"

Fortunes Of War unleashed the stored up energy against the enforcer's chest from my early Perfect Guard and sent the enforcer stumbling back with a strangled cry. His companion aimed at me, but I wasn't going to let him shoot me again. I was at my strongest when I could use both arms and I could perform a Perfect Guard, but that would be difficult in my state. My right arm throbbing and the left holding onto something important, I would have to improvise.

Moving alongside the enforcer I had sent back, I snarled as I jumped and tried to pass between the armed guard's leg. It didn't work as he didn't have them spread out enough for me to pull that maneuver, and as he aimed down I pulled my free arm over my head.

BANG! BANG!

I let out a strangled cry, and using that very same pain, I swung the suitcase using every bit of strength in me and hit him on his weakest point. A gurgling scream escaped the man as he bent over, and I took the opening to crawl around his legs and stand up. I began running, ramming against the kitchen door and stepping onto the bar—

"Fuc—!" I saw a shoulder that nearly slammed against my forehead, but fortunately I crouched low and took to my left. I stopped when I saw another enforcer reach out for me, then turned and jumped over the bar counter, toppling some bottles with my actions. I crashed against one of the dinner tables, and the air was knocked out of my lungs as the table broke underneath me. Wincing and struggling to get to my feet, I heard multiple clicks and turned to see three enforcers looking at me with guns trained on me. I breathed hard as they kept their eyes on me, then the one in the middle broke contact and knelt down the floor, picking up the laptop.

I froze quickly, looking down at the opened suitcase, I cursed and gazed back at the enforcer with the laptop in his hands. His eyes were me the entire time, another of his compatriots peered at the laptop.

"Creep, is that—!?"

"Shut up Fang." Creep's voice was harsh and cold as he stood up, eyes locked with mine. I ground my teeth. These guys didn't have that much of distinguishing looks, but Creep made me shiver. Even in the dark his eyes looked almost like steel. "A thief coming here and taking a laptop. A laptop inside the restaurant of Fugly's Bob. Thief, did you know that fat, worthless man was friends with Stefanie Scott? So what are the chances that this laptop belonged to her too?"

"..." Fortunes Of War appeared. I need that laptop, now.

Creep tilted his head and nodded. "I see, you too."

I blinked. "Me too what?"

Creep glowed purple, glaring at me as a record player stylus appeared on his left bicep, wrapping around it like an armband, with the stylus traveling down his arm like blade. The needle like head sat between his first and second knuckle. It extended as he pointed at me and snarled.

"Stand User."