A great din is heard in the black market of Kallax, the gigantic slum city in the great outskirts of the enormous capital: Logron. Kallax is a lawless city, left to itself by the emperor; it has a mix of desperation and crime, but it has that little feeling of freedom like the others, perhaps because there are no laws or maybe just to maintain that minimum of sanity that every human being needs.
Then there is the black market of Kallax that sells everything that is illegal: from weapons to slaves and so on...
The streets of the black market are illuminated by a weak and cloudy Sun, which does not allow the slightest glimpse of the city's misdeeds.
A din is heard from the food stall, where our protagonist, Michael, steals some stale bread, but is immediately discovered. He suddenly starts running and jumping on the roofs of the stalls, thanks to his rare power: the Mana of Will, which he applies to his limbs to become more agile, using his solid willpower. In fact, this power becomes stronger thanks to the ability of this last force; although it is difficult to train this type of mana.
He manages to hide in a dark and hidden alley, making the food vendor lose his tracks. "I finally managed to escape from that old man" he thought. Michael goes deeper into the alley, trying to return to what he called "home", even if it was just an old and rotten shack.
The alley was dark, but dimly lit by a few small, half-broken street lamps; as Michael passed by, there were some homeless people looking at him, while others greeted him briefly; after all, he was known in those small alleys, since it is the place where he has always lived.
Before going home, he enters a shop in the bad neighborhood, where an old friend of his worked: Paco; a robust, bald man in his forties.
From the outside, the shop has no sign and is rather poorly kept, but inside it almost looks like a seedy inn, but it has a decent air.
Michael enters and is immediately welcomed with open arms by Paco, who immediately approaches: "Michael! You finally came, you haven't been seen for days". Michael replied, but first he distanced himself a bit from Paco, because he was a bit annoyed by having too much contact: "I just had to find the right time to come here; in fact I have some rather valuable objects to sell today". Saying this Michael took out two necklaces and a pair of bracelets decorated with gems and placed them on Paco's counter. "Son, I think you're a bit rusty this time; these bracelets and this necklace are fake. But there is one necklace that is real. I'm sorry for you but for all this I can only give you about ten bronze coins; believe me I'm already giving you too much".
Michael curses and says, in a tone that tries, with little success, to be as convincing as possible: "Come on, we've known each other for agesā¦ can't you give me just 5 more bronze coins?". "You know how business is here and you know very well that you suck at bargaining. I can only give you 12 bronze coins." Michael sighs disappointedly: "Fuck it. Okay, give me these fucking coins." "It's always a pleasure to do business with you, Michael." Paco said, greeting Michael.
Michael walked out of the shop and suddenly a cold breeze hit him full on, messing up his hair and his beautiful wavy brown quiff, which always covers his forehead. Michael is a guy of good build and average height; surprisingly, he is quite good looking, even though he lives in the slums. He always dresses in a sweater or a patchwork monochromatic shirt and pants handmade from low-quality fabric; on top of all this he wears a nice coat made from medium-quality leather (without a doubt his most expensive item) and finally he usually wears, usually in winter, wool gloves with exposed fingers.Ā
It started to drizzle, gradually increasing until it became a downpour, but the slums were so sad that the rain almost seemed dirty. You could hear the rain beating hard on the brick and corrugated iron roofs, muddying the streets more and more; but it couldn't wash away the misdeeds of that dirty lawless city, as if it were a gigantic encrustation.
Michael walked quickly towards his house in the biting rain, which he didn't care much for, arriving in a few minutes in front of his destination: "Oh, shitty home home" said Michael, (instead of the usual 'home sweet home').
He entered his house through a wooden door he had built himself. Inside there is a half-rotten and moldy wooden floor on which there is a decently kept mattress, then there is an unrecognizable piece of furniture, which is probably a sofa (if it can still be called that, in fact the shape is not very clear). There was also a kind of space where you could light a fire. Finally, as a last area, there was a part of his house where he kept some cheap knives bought with the little money he had (obviously they were hidden under some rags). In short, it is truly a sad house.
As soon as Michael entered, he took a bottle of alcohol (the age of majority in this world is 16) from a compartment under the floor and sat down on the mattress: "Another great day in Kallaxā¦ But fuck you," he said after taking a few sips and collapsing from sleep on the mattress, sinking into memories of the pastā¦