"Oy, Titan where are you going?" a small called out from behind Atlas.
"Leave me alone, Tiny," Atlas called back, walking faster.
Tiny didn't leave him alone, in fact, his response only made the boy move faster. And when he blinked, Atlas found that Tiny was already in front of him.
'Too fast,'
He clicked his tongue and tried to walk around Tiny. But the other boy blocked him with a swift jab of his hand.
"Come on, why not put your supernatural physical abilities to good use and join the Demigod Exercise Club?"
It forced Atlas to stop and look at the small senior of his.
Tiny was a short boy of around 158 cm (or 5'2) in height and was around eighteen years of age. He had short, dyed, white hair and blue eyes. He wore a blue pair of gym shorts and a plain white shirt both inside and outside of classes. Teachers normally cautioned him, but most couldn't do anything about it.
"I've explained multiple times, Tiny. But let me try just one more time," Atlas took in a deep breath and spelt out every word slowly. "I. will. not. join. your. stupid. club."
He pushed his way through Tiny's arms and began moving again, but Tiny was already waiting in the front
"Come on, I'm begging you Atlas. I'm graduating soon and we won't have a club captain anymore. Those other guys don't fit my standards!" Tiny yelled, waving his arms around comedically.
Atlas remained unmoved, causing Tiny to let out a growl of frustration.
"Come on, Titan. I really don't want to use my dad's authority to blackball you into this,"
Atlas didn't care for his begging. Tiny said almost the same words every day. At first, he'd been perplexed but time went on and nothing ever happened, so he just assumed Tiny wasn't as motivated as he seemed to do so.
"You can call your daddy and his goons anytime you want, but don't do it during the hours of my part-time jobs,"
He just gently walked past Tiny and went straight to work. As he did that, Tiny let out a small sigh in response.
"You would have made an excellent leader,"
Atlas took it for the ramblings of a rejected man but took it in mind that it was the first time since they had met, that Tiny had ever ended their conversations on such a note.
But that didn't matter. Atlas was just an ordinary boy, and he wanted nothing to do with that.
He first went to the smoothie shop where he worked part time. The owner was a skinny middle-aged lady obsessed with getting healthy.
"Afternoon, Miss Heather," he greeted, entering the small store with a surprising amount of customers.
Miss Heather greeted back, smiling as she served some customers. "Afternoon, Atlas. Go change in the back and get started immediately,"
She was a kind lady, but kindness could only get one so far when business was involved. Unfortunately, her kindness couldn't cover his wages which were not so much that he could get a new house for himself and his mother.
With all of his working every day, Atlas earned about 20,000 dollars a year, assuming he worked about 200 days a year. Including some occasional overtime, he only earned about 25, 000 dollars a year.
Atlas counted the years he'd been working as he entered the backroom.
"I think it's been three years?" he muttered, taking off his shirt to put on the uniform.
He was sixteen now, and he'd been working after school since he was thirteen. Across those three years, fees had to be deducted for several things and in the end, the estimated 75k that he'd saved was dwindled down to 55k.
After switching out everything he was wearing before to uniform, Atlas stopped to look at himself in the mirror. He was slightly brown-skinned with curly hair and had deep black eyes. He was a bit taller than the mirror and had to bend, standing at over 180 centimetres tall.
Dressed in the silly orange uniform shirt, he looked like a clown.
'First job here we go,'
He left the backroom and quickly got to work. His shift ended an hour and a half later and he left quickly to find his next job.
Job after job went until he finally got to the last one. It was the most dangerous and risky job of them all. The meeting place was a dark, abandoned building. (A/N: Cliche right?)
"Titan, so good to see you again!" A large man with a beaming smile walked over and clapped Atlas' back.
This job wasn't really conventional and one could tell by looking at the giant of a man, who stood over 200 centimetres tall. Not to mention, the large machine gun he held in his hand and the two smaller submachine guns strapped to his waist.
He wore a black tactical vest and stomped around in large boots unfit for most men to wear.
His name was Thomas Arlington, and he was an international criminal.
Thomas Arlington was his first patron and his most dangerous one. He robbed and killed people for a living. This made Atlas a bit disgusted at first, but eventually, after facing and seeing death multiple times, he could only respect the large man's grind.
Atlas stared at the man's brown mane of hair and shook his head.
'I'm only a getaway driver, I couldn't ever be so courageous as to do what they do,'
Thomas looked down at Atlas and laughed as if sensing his thoughts.
"Don't worry boy. For this one, we're doing something big. It's very likely that you'll be able to keep your hands clean for a while after this,"
Atlas nodded and squirmed as he waited for the remaining three members of their five-man temporary alliance.
The remaining three came eventually and got straight to the point.
"Is it a bank?" A lithe woman with purple hair asked, she was a new addition since Atlas didn't recognize her.
Thomas laughed. "No, even better."
A small man holding a rifle tried to ask. He was a recurring member nicknamed Headshot.
"A bigger bank?" Headshot asked twirling the sniper rifle.
"No, even more better!"
The final person, a lad that wasn't far from Atlas' age, finally decided to put a stop to their trifling.
"Just get to the point."
This made Thomas the Giant grin ferociously, his brown teeth somehow shining in the darkness of the empty building.
"We're going to hijack a few money trucks."
The boy asked another question again, this time with more anticipation. "How much are we talking?"
Thomas paused and stopped grinning.
"Give or take, 50 million."
Then the whole room stopped.
****
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For more updates on God Of Gangsters and access to short stories, go to my p.a.t.r.e.o.n: Purple_Midnight