One night, in a narrow street in the slums of New Casablanca, a deafening sound was heard.
It was as if two hard objects crashed together, like a gun shot towards a metal object.
There weren't many people in that street, knowing very well the dangers it brought. The only people who stayed out this late are the ones who looked for a fight.
It was like this in the slums of New Casablanca.
Located in the middle of this astonishingly modern city, the slums seemed a little off. Although technology was still present, the place felt a little backwards. It was a grey area where police stay away from, even when this was where crime most prevailed. Here, it was the law of the jungle.
Simple. Messy.
But that night, it was different. Hearing such a loud sound in the streets of New Casablanca wasn't all too common.
The loud intrusive noise came from a simple fist landing on a body. It happened not too far from a little bar, Pig's Paw", where Fell Pluck worked.
Fell was a young rejected boy born in the slums. Up to this day, his life revolved around where he lived and the place where he worked. The rest of New Casablanca was pretty much unknown to him.
Even though the slums were very dangerous, hardening users were not very common. Most of them avoided making a show of their skills in public. Fell was completely astonished by the scene in front of him. It was the first time he was witnessing hardening.
Five seconds earlier, darkness had already taken over the sun in the streets of New Casablanca. Fell had just finished his night shift in the bar he works in. The only thing he had in mind was his bed.
He was still frowning, his stomach was nauseous from all the trash he had to take out, his fragile and frail frame was slowly seen advancing through the dark street.
His sluggish steps always avoiding the trash on the ground. Unfocused, he didn't even take a look at the endless sea of tags and graffiti spreading across the dam of steel that formed the street.
In front of him stood three thugs that surrounded the blue-haired man.
'They're acting again like they own the streets.", sighed a middle-aged man, his eyes looking way too calm in front of this seemingly normal scene.
"It's sad, but that's how life here in the core works. If you look the slightest bit weak, you'll get eaten without knowing why."
This kind of scene was all too normal for the inhabitants of the core.
The young man had a head full of long blue hair cascading on his shoulder, his eyes looking clear and vivid, his eyebrows drawn like a sword, a grin drawing on his clear face.
One of the thugs tried to sneak his right hand out of his sweater pocket. As his motion continued, you could see a wooden handle following his fingertips.
A serious expression appeared on the blue-haired man's face. In a burst of motion full of explosiveness, he took a step in while shifting his weights. His left elbow tensed and bent like a bow in the direction of his hips. The jab struck right on the thug's left shoulder and completely shattered it.
'Arghh!' a sharp and horrifying scream escaped the lips of the aggressor, his left shoulder completely ruined and crippled, leaving him in an intense state of pain.
He was close to losing consciousness.
A splash of blood, littered by torn clothes and flesh was just behind his body.
"Hardening!!!", screamed one of the old drunkards that endlessly wandered through New Casablanca's nightlife.
The crippled thug never imagined that simply by trying to take out his hatchet, the young and frail blue-haired boy would punish him instantly. Not even leaving him the chance to use his weapon.
In this narrow and dark street, Fell never would have thought that this scene would create a seed in his heart. Deep down Fell Pluck always craved for power, power to change his miserable life.
Power to finally grab a handle on his destiny.
As their companion was emitting a horrendous sound, the two other thugs grabbed the crippled body of their brother and started escaping with him. A mix of hate and fear clearly visible on their rough and twisted face.
"They will probably try to take revenge on him", thought the young Fell.
Fell approached the seemingly relaxed man, his back straight and tall like a mountain, a satisfied smile was drawn on his lips. He was weirdly looking at his clenched fist, pondering on unknown subjects.
'This blue-haired friend, you should start running for it, those kinds of scums are well known for their vendetta', kindly advised Pluck
'Yeah boy! you should quickly leave this place. Those bastards from the Darksun Gang will probably come back again! And this time it won't just be just a random Harry, Tom and Billy.'
Hearing this, the stranger slowly looked at Fell. He held a puzzled look on his face while Fell talked to him.
He didn't expect that in such a dangerous area that his family told him not to visit, he would encounter someone with such a clear and honest look.
"I kinda lost my way around those streets, do you mind showing me around?" said unhurriedly the blue-haired stranger.