"Leave."
A stout man wore an apron behind a counter, red stains lined his clothing. Flesh and blood permeated the room.
An audible sigh left Mark's mouth.
He heeded the butcher's demand and promptly took his exit. The gruesome smell of the place was sickening anyway.
Compared to everything else, this attempt was way shorter- lasting barely a minute. There was nothing to buy except some overpriced pieces of meat; and since he wasn't willing to purchase those, there was nothing to stall for time. So he simply begged for a job before being brutally rejected.
And finally, he had exhausted the list he got from the lady at the diner. It was painful to see that all his efforts there gave nothing in return. Yet he had to try. If there was success to be found somewhere in this damned city, it would only be found by groping in the darkness.
Water pressed his hair and clothes close, the cold permeating through all layers of protection, chilling him to the bone.
He raised his head and looked to the east, where the fumes of wartime industry climbed into the air. People still seemed to be working there, which was surprising considering the hour, and the downpour.
Jobs were always available at the docks, with many people finding a position in the factory or doing some hard labor- an even greater amount of people trying to get those positions.
It was like playing the lottery, except with exploitatively low payoffs. Those making it in were paid nearly nothing, starting before sunrise and ending after sunset. The desperate with no better options who had the bare minimum of morals often found themselves there, others had already delved into the world of crime.
Then there was the army that constantly took from the people lining the factories. That alone made Mark avoid finding work in the eastern district of the city.
The plan was to look everywhere else before even considering wage-slaving, let alone relying on crime.
Walking through the wet and desolate streets, he saw that most of the shops were closed.
It was probably time to end his efforts for now. In his current situation, he could still look to the next day, and then the ones after.
Thanks to the brunette, there was a clutch to rely on for the time being. It was a shame that her help would eventually come to an end. Unless the war abruptly stops- which there is currently no sign of, Mark could only dread the moment he is let go of once more, and left to fend for himself on the streets.
Throughout his short life, the people supporting him had eventually been taken away- his family, some friends, and now his boss, Royce. Who says it wouldn't happen once more?
The only one he could rely on was himself.
He looked at his hands, now slightly trembling- whether it be from cold, dread, or both.
And that was the last thing he beheld, before being robbed of sight.
Every light abruptly, simultaneously turned off, throwing the city into utter darkness
Only the rain remained, the sound of droplets exploding on the ground provided a poor guide for what would be the street.
That however, wasn't the problem.
Mark looked left and right, only seeing black, realizing he had just lost his way back.
'Where the hell even am I?'
On his crusade to find work, he eventually started moving in random directions while looking for what was on the list he was given. And most of those places he had never visited before.
Though he vaguely could tell the four directions of the compass, nothing else remained clear in this urban maze. Sadly, he had places to be, and Mark had long become sick of the relentless downpour.
Hopefully someone would be awake at the brunette's house to let him in.
The young man proceeded to walk in the wet, murky night. Only knowing to move north, he tried to find home.
It was an arduous and boring task.
Without sight, time seemed to be woefully stretched. Seconds seemed like minutes, minutes like hours. It felt like the sun would find its way back into the sky before Mark would find himself back under a roof.
Amidst the plethora of splattering rain, the young man stopped near an opening next to him, hearing some sort of cacophony unfolding just meters to his right.
He groped in the darkness, feeling out two walls narrowly placed together. It seemed there was an alley right next to him. Mark paused at the entrance.
"Where's the shit Fredrich?"
A highly irritated voice rang through the small passageway, followed by a pained one.
"I-I'm telling you, my name isn't Fredrich, it's Leopold! Please l-leave me alone, I d- don't have any money for yo- you!"
Another irritated voice, this one more bored responded.
"We all know that's bullshit."
Mark heard a body get pulled up.
"Look here, you even have a ring. Just as the boss said, you have a wife. Agnes, correct?"
More struggling noises were heard.
"No! That's m-my family heirloom. It's not even- on the right finger!"
'Poor man.'
There was no reason to intervene. Little benefits came from doing so, and fighting in blinding darkness was too risky to be worth it.
The first voice resumed his shouting.
"Enough of your shitty excuses!"
There was a thud, that of something hitting the floor.
Then another thud, this time of skin hitting a skin- followed by an agonized groan.
Mark listened as two gangsters began to beat up some miserable man, hapless cries and woeful sounds contrasting with the violent clamor.
Time stopped seeming slow and began to blur while the extortion continued.
Eventually, the gangsters stopped their onslaught as their poor victim had long stopped reacting to their merciless assault.
Maybe they spared him, or the man was already dead.
"I don't think this was the guy..."
'Oh, so now they figured it out.'
It would have been comical if not so gruesomely horrible. And no, Mark didn't stay for the entertainment. He was trying to figure out if the assaulted man was some big shot.
Sadly, it seemed like the poor victim was some random guy with an unstable financial situation.
The bored voice stirred.
"Yeah, this deadbeat doesn't have money. Look's like this was all a waste of time. I'm sick of this, let's get out of here."
'Oh, shoot.'
Mark, slightly caught off guard by the sudden shift, moved slightly back and away from the entrance before pinning himself against one of the walls.
Luckily the rain obscured his steps, and the darkness, his body.
He held his breath and listened while the two irritated men walked past him. They were without a care for their surroundings- slightly thanks to Mark's ability.
The sight brought a smile to his face as he waited a bit before continuing on his way.
'What are these guys doing so far up north anyway?'
It was a strange sight to see crime in the more prosperous part of the city, especially with law enforcement being tight in this area. And while he wasn't exactly in the northern district yet, he felt like he was very close to it.
Seeing crime here could mean a few things.
Either some gang is stretching northward or crime in general is expanding- perhaps even both. Each meant that the situation in the city was getting worse.
'Though speaking of gangs, hopefully the Spheks aren't pursuing me anymore. After all, it has been some months since my last exploits.'
Mark had been something of a pacifist in his recent days. There was no need for any violence in the wealthy northern neighborhood, so he ended up enjoying his life in peace.
On that note, being with the brunette made him completely unaware of everything that was happening in the southern district.
Maybe there were a few gang wars happening, paradigm shifts, and other stuff. Perhaps something happened to the Hounds, Aaron, and his mother too.
The only thing he really cared about was the situation with the Spheks and the Hounds. The former was a danger to society in general, while the latter was something he could potentially use...
'Let's just hope both the slums and that savage gang don't grow too much. It's not too big of a wish, right?'
With that, he continued walking in the dark.
Time passed but was painfully slow, the night becoming more and more unending as Mark navigated the city.
The fog above had grown with the appearance of the rain. Clouds sealed the sky and horizons, not letting a single celestial body show.
It was only by the time the night turned from pitch black to indigo, then lighter shades of blue, that the world was given light.
And with restored sight, Mark made his way back to the house before the eastern sky was painted its regular daylight hue.
He knocked on the wooden door, before hearing faint steps on the floor. It didn't take a while before he saw a face without a smile.
But the brunette gave him a glare, a dreadful feeling filling the air. Almost like she would meet him with a smack.
"H-hey... I'm back."