After agreeing to meet with the gang boss, I took my bag and said goodbye to my old man as though going to school. Instead, Cleaner was waiting for me at his shop.
"Hello, Nikolas, welcome. Would you like a haircut?"
There were two men in the shop. First, there was a guy with a shaved head, leaving only black stubble to attest his baldness was out of choice. He was around 1.77 centimeters tall, which was about pretty much the same as the future me. Let's just say we were the same.
"Hey Cleaner, is asking that question turned into a tick for you?"
This man was Shawn, also known as Cleaner. He had a skinny build that didn't match his raspy voice too much, looking like a junkie who spent all his money on weed, and whatever was left was wasted on cigarettes.
"No, does being a smartass turn into a tick for you? This time I'm serious, I heard you were targeted once for being here, it might be because you never got a haircut."
