Hector stood up from the small table near the window, his stomach feeling pleasantly full from the delicious food he had just enjoyed. He crumpled up the paper bag that had once held the treats, tossing it into a nearby trash can.

As he turned to leave, the friendly woman behind the counter called out to him. "Thanks for stopping by! Have a great day!"

Hector smiled and waved. He made his way towards the door, the bell above it tinkling as he pushed it open and stepped out onto the busy street.

The sun was shining brightly overhead, casting a warm glow over the hustle and bustle of the city. People rushed past him on the sidewalk, their arms laden with shopping bags and their faces intent on their own tasks.

Hector paused for a moment, taking a deep breath and feeling a sense of peace wash over him. He closed his eyes and let himself simply exist at the moment, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the sound of the city around him.

"Let's burn something to the ground," Hector said at the possibilities that flashed through his mind. After a few moments, he decided that it is time to strike at Street Rats arena.

After entering the carriage Hector went home to collect money for explosives which he will buy from Kaspars

Hector took about 700 pounds as he wasn't sure how much explosives would cost and how much he would need to pay for them to be delivered to the vicinity of Street Rats arena.

While he stood before his safe he counted and then stuffed 500 pounds into his suitcase.

After boarding the carriage, Hector went to Braveheart Bar. There he entered the building and went to the bar. Hector ordered a drink for which he paid and spoke, "Where is Kaspars," Hector asked the bartender, and when he got a response he stood up and walked into the billiard room where he saw Kaspars playing a game with another man.

When Kaspars saw Hector standing at the door he excused himself and went to a different room with him.

"What do you want," Kaspars asked while observing Hector.

"Ten Explosives, enough to blow up the whole street," Hector said for which he received a hard stare from Kaspars.

"Don't worry I need it for one wooden building." He said calmly.

"Well, then you wouldn't need so much," Kaspars said in turn.

"Yes but I also want to prove a point," Hector said already getting bored with the conversation. Then he put his hand in his pocket and took out a piece of paper on which the address was written.

"Bring them to this address in two days. For your troubles, I will pay you 300 pounds half now and half later.

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"I need someone to deliver them to that address without being spotted by trams, gangsters, or police.

"In two days I will come to that address for those explosives and pay the remaining sum of money." After that, they talked about finer details and came to an agreement.

It was a great opportunity for Kaspars as payment of 300 pounds was very generous even if it was on such short notice.

Hector stepped out of the Braveheart Bar, the sounds of lively conversation and clinking glasses fading away behind him. He took a deep breath of the cool night air, feeling a sense of contentment and relaxation wash over him.

As he turned to head home, a carriage pulled up to the curb, its driver beckoning him over. Hector recognized the man as one of the regular carriage drivers in the area, and he nodded in agreement as the driver offered to take him home.

Hector climbed into the carriage, settling back into the plush velvet seats as the driver clucked to his horses and they began to move. The clip-clop of the horses' hooves echoed through the deserted streets, and Hector watched as the buildings and shops passed by in a blur.

As the carriage approached his house, Hector reached into his pocket to retrieve the fare for the driver.

When he stepped out he walked to the gate of his property. After opening the gate Hector walked on the stone paved road and entered his home. Hector rested in the living room while enjoying tea and reading a newspaper. When it was time for dinner he stood up and left the room.

Hector walked into his dining room, the soft glow of candlelight casting a warm and inviting atmosphere over the space. He took a seat at the head of the table, admiring the beautifully set table and the sumptuous spread of food that had been laid out before him.

His personal chef, a tall and imposing man named Pierre, emerged from the kitchen, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Bon appétit, Monsieur," he said, gesturing toward the dishes on the table.

Pierre originated from Intis and was the family chef for 12 years now.

Hector smiled back, feeling grateful for the talent and dedication of his chef. He picked up his fork and knife, admiring the intricate designs of the silverware as he prepared to enjoy the meal.

The first dish was a roasted chicken, its skin crisp and golden and the meat succulent and flavorful. Hector cut into it with a sense of satisfaction, enjoying the tender texture and the subtle blend of spices that had been used to season it.

Next came a creamy potato gratin, the layers of thinly sliced potatoes melting together with cream and cheese to create a rich and decadent side dish. Hector savored the complex flavors, feeling his taste buds come alive with each bite.

Finally, Pierre brought out a dessert of fresh fruit, its colors and flavors bursting with sweetness and freshness. Hector took a few bites, admiring the way the juicy fruits paired with the light and fluffy whipped cream.

As he ate, Hector savored not just the flavors of the food, but the overall experience of dining in his elegant dining room. The soft candlelight and the impeccable service from his chef made the meal feel like a true indulgence, a moment of luxury and relaxation in his busy life.

With a final sip of wine, Hector pushed back from the table, feeling satisfied and content.

Hector thought about his plans to attack Street Rats arena, 'Tomorrow I should check how many people are guarding it and maybe gather some information from gangsters that live close.

'While I could have given myself more time for preparation and planning it would be constantly on my mind, whispering 'Kill them already, eviscerate them all...' and it could bring restlessness to my sleep. Not to mention it is more fun this way.

'To just break in and start killing, then plant explosives, and kill some more. Not to mention a big explosion at the end of the day. It would be like celebrations of a new year just shifting the location of explosions.'

When he was done Hector excused himself into his chambers and changed his clothes to his clothes for sleeping. "I miss television, no wonder people of this age are so corrupt. There is nothing else to do but s*x, drugs, plotting schemes, and occasional evil god worship.