Two weeks, all too short and yet feeling like an eternity. Spending two weeks with Polina, talking, playing games, and just going on dates. It could have easily been the best two weeks of his life.

If not for the problems eating at him, always in the back of his mind.

Two weeks of wondering who was trying to ruin his life. Two weeks of waiting for answers from his lawyer. Two weeks of no Commissions because he was being followed by a patrol car anytime he left the house- not to mention his stalkers, though they never realized he was aware of their presence.

Though a part of him was glad for them being there, as it led him to more than a few ideas.

Mainly about his attributes.

At first, Oliver only knew of the police officers following him as they were quite obvious. But, in the back of his mind, was always this little itch. Like something was missing. It felt like he was searching his mind for a word he knew that constantly eluded him, only to surprise him when it finally clicked.

He was picking up groceries, planning to cook a nice meal for Polina to show her his appreciation, when it clicked. Standing in the meat department, carefully considering whether to cook a pork loin or steaks, movement to the side caught his attention just as the itch in the back of his mind reared up.

Glancing at the person casually perusing the other end of the store, a single thought rose in his mind: 'Have I seen them before?' He stared blankly at the meats in front of him as he let his mind wander until he found the answer- he had, several times. Just a few days after his expulsion, when he took Polina to the movies. Then again at the garden center when he was picking up mulch. The park, a burger place, when he met with his lawyer...

The same person kept showing up, over and over. And they were watching him. Oliver could feel it, deep down inside. This person was following him, and they didn't mean him well. He didn't know how he knew, at least not at first, but an idea was building.

Spirit.

Oliver had always had a decent sense for trouble. A strong gut instinct, some would say. It's how he had avoided going out with his high school friends the night they all got arrested for trespassing. How he figured out that Jess was cheating. It even warned him the approaching cars were trouble when his tires blew the night of the party. And, since getting the system and realizing there was more out there than he had ever known, he was more in-tune with the feeling than ever.

And the only explanation he could come up with was Spirit.

It made sense, even if it felt in-complete to him. The word spirit related to the non-physical and even the soul. Some even connected it to the supernatural, and, considering the system in his possession, Oliver wasn't one to doubt the possibility. So, perhaps his Spirit Attribute- his soul- picked up on something from this person, and the itch in the back of his mind was just a subconscious warning of the danger they may represent.

Oliver couldn't help but be pissed.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

It wasn't enough for someone to try to ruin his life. It wasn't enough that they went after his girlfriend. They just had to go even further and intrude of nearly every aspect of his life. Going for a walk, grocery shopping, date nights with Poli! It was too much.

And he had no intentions of just hiding away at home until it was over.

Which is why, after asking a few simple and harmless questions, Oliver was taking an unexpected phone call. From the county jail.

After a warning that the line was being recorded and a short wait, the other person came on the line with a slightly confused and disgruntled tone. “Why the hell would you have your lawyer contact me and ask me to call you? Especially after that shit a couple weeks ago...”

“Hey Rodney.” Oliver hid the anger he was feeling, both at the situation and this man's involvement. He knew it wouldn't help, and he already had an approach in mind. “I'm not going to beat around the bush, I have a question for you.”

“And why the hell do you think I'm going to answer?”

Oliver chuckled softly, shaking his head. Rodney already knew, thanks to Oliver's lawyer, but clearly wanted confirmation. “Because a good word from me could be the difference between prison and probation.”

Seconds ticked by, Oliver waiting calmly, until a quiet sigh echoed across the phone line. “I'm actually surprised you don't know, seeing as you and Carl use to be buddies-”

“We were never that close.” Oliver cut him off, harsher than he intended. Taking a deep breath, he pulled back on his emotions. “Sorry, I'm still a little upset over the whole thing.”

He could hear the laughter in Rodney's voice as the man spoke. “Oh, man was I right. I told them to leave you alone. Something about you is just...”

“Who?”

Rodney actually laughed aloud this time, though there was no malice in the sound. “It's kinda funny, man. All that shit between you two and somehow you never knew that your buddy's name was Carl Hardeman Jr.?”

Oliver actually facepalmed at the realization. How had that fact never come out? “Thanks Rodney. For what it's worth, I'm aware that you were pushed into that shit by Carl. And my lawyer will be sending yours a certified statement to that effect, including my request for leniency. I hope it helps.”

With a name and direction to work with, Oliver started his search. Not wanting to leave a digital footprint, he used one of the cheap smart phones with a prepaid card. It made digging for information online a little more tedious, but distancing himself from what was to come was well worth it.

Because he knew the blow-back would be of epic proportions.

He knew that someone willing to use underhanded methods to get at him would definitely protect themselves thoroughly. Guards, security systems, cameras... Going straight at someone like that would only end in tragedy. He needed an angle, something that would be distant from the man himself but still hurt him.

Unfortunately, Oliver could see no way to avoid collateral damage. Not and still be able to hit back.

Oliver watched the distribution warehouse through his binoculars, bright lights along the fence driving back the darkness of the night. Sneaking out after dark helped him avoid his ever present tails, but jogging across half the city ate away at his schedule- he needed to be done and home before dawn. The similarities with his last vigilante excursion didn't escape him, and he smiled at the thought.

While security around Mr. Hardeman was undoubtedly tight, security for his business was a joke. Two security guards, alternating one in the guard post at the gate while the other walks a short patrol- and likely an alarm on the building itself. Of course, who would try to rob a distribution warehouse full of vegetables? And even if someone was desperate enough to try, how would they take enough for it to even matter?

Naturally, Oliver had no plans of actually taking anything out of the building.