Tuesday, May 28, 2019
Ned woke up in his bed, his head spinning. For a moment, he couldn't remember much, sitting on the edge of his bed in a daze. But as his mind cleared, he recalled what had happened.
"Oh yeah… I got knocked out," he muttered in a tired tone.
He glanced at the clock. 7 AM.
"Damn, I was out for an entire day," he thought to himself with a sigh.
Just then he heard noises coming from outside his bedroom. He stood up and walked to the door. As he opened it, he saw Brad and Mark sitting on the floor, watching the news on TV.
Brad noticed him immediately. "Oh, you're finally awake, huh?"
Ned sighed. "Yeah, yeah." He scratched his head as he walked toward them.
"So, how do you feel?" Brad asked.
"I'm still kinda dizzy, but overall, I'm fine," Ned replied, turning his attention to Mark.
Mark stood up. "You sure you're alright?"
Ned nodded.
Mark exhaled, his tone firm. "I think I went overboard. Now that we're allies, I owe you an apology."
Ned quickly shook his hand. "No, no, no need. It was our fault too. I mean, we did send an assassin to attack you, and…" His voice lowered as he gulped. "We… we killed your friend."
Mark raised an eyebrow, then let out a low chuckle.
"Oh? Don't worry about that. We weren't exactly on the best terms anyway. He was hated by a lot of people. Honestly, you guys probably did me a favor," Mark said casually before pointing at the table in front of them.
On the table were various foods and snacks.
"I brought some food as an apology," Mark continued. "I tried cooking something, but when I looked around your place, all I found were cup noodles…" He scratched his head with a laugh. "So I just bought some instead."
Brad grinned. "We haven't taken a single bite. We were waiting for you! Don't just stand there like an idiot—come eat!" he said enthusiastically.
Ned smiled and sat down with them. The three ate their breakfast together.
After they finished, Mark took the dishes and began washing them.
Ned watched him and smirked. "You're awfully diligent, huh?"
Mark responded while rinsing a plate. "Well, I was raised that way, so it's just normal for me. In fact, I actually enjoy doing chores."
He finished washing the last plate, dried his hands, and returned to sit with the others. Brad, now full, had passed out on the floor, snoring.
"Anyway," Mark said, settling in. "How about we get to know each other? There are only three of us right now, so it wouldn't hurt, right?"
Ned shrugged. "Yeah, sure, I guess."
Mark leaned back. "Alright then, how old are you, Ned?"
"Seventeen."
"You're young, huh? Same as Brad. Still in high school, I assume. Man, I miss those days," Mark mused.
Ned then asked, "You and Brad seem to have known each other for a while. Considering how casual you two talk, you must have some history, right?"
Mark nodded. "Yeah, we do. We first met during a mission TBC assigned to us. Brad was quiet in that environment, but outside of work, he's actually pretty outgoing. At meetings, though? He barely spoke."
Ned raised an eyebrow. "Meetings? So TBC gives you guys missions?"
Mark nodded. "Yeah, they usually send details—when, where, and how—through mail. That's how things worked. Brad was always silent in meetings, so I decided to get closer to him. One thing led to another, and we started going on missions together. You get the point. But when he betrayed TBC, he disappeared. I figured they killed him or something. Turns out, I was wrong—he came back."
Ned's expression turned serious. "I see… Well, that's cool and all, but could you explain to me what TBC really is? Brad never explained much."
Mark laughed. "Oh? Sure, sure. But first, you need to understand how things work here."
"First, there are gangs—pretty standard, with leaders and members. To officially be considered a 'gang,' you need at least seven members. In Willage City, there are tons of gangs, but only a few are considered strong or influential.
If a gang continues to grow in numbers and power, it can be promoted. Gangs go from small to medium and then to big gangs. If they have enough power or funding, they can expand their territory.
TBC? They blackmailed a lot of important people into funding them. At one point, they controlled nearly a quarter of the city. Aside from blackmail, they made money by selling illegal substances."
Mark's tone grew firmer as he continued.
"TBC distributes different products to different gangs, but they don't tell them what the others are selling. For example, from what Brad told me, he sold Weaken Gas and Wake-Up Pills.
But my gang? We only sold one thing—a Power Boost Injection. A red liquid that enhances strength to near-superhuman levels when injected. That's how I was able to break that massive concrete during our fight."
Ned's eyes widened. "Seriously?"
Mark nodded. "Yeah. And it was an accident too. I tripped, the needle pricked my hand, and it injected half the stuff into me.
TBC has been running for years. Their products are everywhere. If something fails or isn't in demand, they just dump it into the sewers. That crap has contaminated the water supply.
Animals usually die on contact. But for humans? It's a 50/50 chance—either they gain insane abilities, or they die a slow, painful death."
Mark leaned back. "So, what do you think?"
Ned let out a breath. "That was a lot to take in… but I understand now."
Mark smirked. "Good. Now, my turn to ask you something."
Ned nodded. "Alright, what do you wanna know?"
Mark pointed at him. "Why do you carry a taser?"
Ned blinked but remained calm. "For protection, duh? I bought it online. There were a bunch of robberies in this area in the past.
That's also why, even though I have money, I don't keep food stocked. I keep my savings online rather than stashing cash at home."
As they talked, Brad finally stirred, stretching and yawning.
Mark and Ned turned to him.
Brad looked at them groggily. "W-what? Never seen a guy wake up before?"
They just stared at him silently.
Ned scoffed. "Man, whatever."
He then pulled something from his pocket and slammed it on the table.
It was a photo.
"This will be our next ally. The strongest member of the Wild Gang!"
The photograph showed a man with short, nearly buzz-cut hair and a calm expression. Some parts of the picture were blurry.
Mark gave an uncertain look. "You almost died fighting me, and now you wanna fight Claw? Okay, maybe if that gas hadn't weakened you, you'd stand a chance. But right now? You're weak."
Brad grinned. "You guys got no balls. I'll prove that nothing can weaken me! Look, we need strong people, and this is our chance. The Wild Gang is falling apart, and I know Claw will be looking for someone to join."
Mark facepalmed. "You never change, Brad. Never." He sighed. "Fine. I already joined you, so I'll fight alongside you. We'll figure out a way to convince Claw."
Brad smirked and turned to Ned. "You ready?"
Ned grinned. "Ready!"