The sun beat down mercilessly on the desolate streets as Ryo trudged along, his Glock nestled securely in the holster beneath his hoodie. With each step, he scanned the abandoned vehicles lining the road, searching for a means to expedite his travels through the decaying city.
After what felt like hours of fruitless searching, his eyes finally landed on a sleek, black scooter nestled in the shadows of an alleyway. His heart quickened with excitement as he approached the vehicle, his footsteps echoing in the eerie silence of the deserted streets.
As he drew closer, however, his hopes were dashed—the fuel gauge read empty, a silent testament to the world's rapid descent into chaos. Disappointment threatened to dampen his spirits, but Ryo refused to be deterred. With a determined sigh, he made a mental note of the scooter's location and pressed on in search of a solution.
Luck was on his side as he stumbled upon a nearby fuel station, its neon sign flickering faintly against the backdrop of the crumbling cityscape. Drawing on his past experience as a cash register attendant, Ryo navigated the dimly lit interior with ease, his keen eyes scanning the rows of shelves for any sign of life—or in this case, fuel.
To his relief, the station still boasted a small stockpile of gasoline, its pumps miraculously operational thanks to the lingering presence of electricity. With practiced efficiency, Ryo filled a gallon container to the brim, the scent of gasoline filling the air as he worked.
But as he prepared to depart, another thought occurred to him—one that would prove crucial to his survival in the days to come. With a swift motion, he raided the station's stash of cigars, stuffing as many as he could into the depths of his backpack. In a world where uncertainty reigned supreme, a good smoke was a rare luxury indeed.
With the fuel secured and his backpack brimming with provisions, Ryo made his way back to the abandoned scooter, a newfound sense of purpose driving him forward. With steady hands, he poured the gasoline into the tank, the sound of fuel sloshing against metal music to his ears.
As he watched the gauge steadily rise, a sense of satisfaction washed over him. The scooter represented more than just a means of transportation—it was a symbol of resilience, a beacon of hope in a world shrouded in darkness.
With the tank filled to capacity, Ryo stowed the remaining gasoline in the gallon container and slung it over his shoulder, ready to be transported back to his rooftop sanctuary. But as he mounted the scooter and prepared to depart, another realization dawned on him—one that would shape his actions in the days to come.
Before the electricity ran out for good, he needed to stockpile as much fuel as possible, a precious resource that would undoubtedly become increasingly scarce as the days wore on. With a sense of urgency gnawing at his insides, Ryo revved the engine to life and set off into the crumbling city, his mind already racing with plans for the future.