The way I see it, everybody’s an idiot. Whether you’re a genius mathematician, a surly detective, or a big-shot crime boss. Or even me, said crime boss’s son. All you need is one little moment of stupidity, and the next thing you know, you’re dead, and the people who killed you will be rewarded and paraded around as common heroes.
Which is absolute bull. I saw my father surrender, before they gunned him down where he kneeled. So what if he was a major crime lord? Everyone needs to make a living somehow, and that shouldn’t give them an excuse to murder him in cold blood.
Nonetheless, I know that the only reason I’m even alive right now is that I knew that my dad would slip up. As an avid history fan, I’ve read about my fair share of people who’ve fallen victim to avarice and hedonism. Each and every one of them ended up murdered by their enemies. So, I might have made some modifications to my window, in case I needed to make a silent getaway. I had a nice go-bag too, so on that fateful night, I slipped out, as quick and as quiet as a wink.
The only problem is, I didn’t think much past escaping the mansion. I had the skeleton of a plan. In its entirety, my plan was: get to Koreatown during the weekend. It’s been three hours since I skipped out on the RIPD deathsquad, I can’t take the metro without the fear of getting arrested or killed, and Koreatown is still six miles away. Thanks, city planners, for making our great metropolis have the most awful road system ever to be thought up. If I could go straight, then I could get there in maybe a half hour. It’s funny, according to Rex Inductus: The First Megapolis, this is the most technologically advanced city on the planet. Yeah, tell that to the homeless dude I just walked by, who was sleeping in a grungy alleyway that smelled worse than Hell.
Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.
On the bright side, it’s a full moon, and Luna is staring down on us all, silently judging our stupidity. The cracked sidewalk beneath my feet glows faintly under the light of a flickering street lamp. I plod ever forward, the route to Koreatown firmly engraved into my mind.
I’m starting to feel tired, running from murderous cops and contemplating plans for the future is really draining. As I sit with my back leaning against the metal wall behind me, I take a quick moment to check my stuff. Pickpockets are everywhere, after all.
First, I might as well go from my feet to my head, just in case some super decided to magically steal my stuff. I have my fancy black self-tying shoes on, covering my white socks. Above that, cargo pants with knee pads over them and a black shirt. Over that is my varsity jacket, because team spirit is always the key to victory or something. To be honest, I’m only wearing it because I was had it on when the deathsquad kicked the door in. I’ve also got my fingerless gloves on, which I had brought in my bag, along with the knee pads. Loosely gripped by my right hand is an aluminum baseball bat, which I grabbed for obvious reasons. My messenger bag that I have hung across my body, still has everything in it that I might need, from food to a lighter. With everything accounted for and me feeling slightly rejuvenated, I stand up and continue my steady march.
Today is Friday, and my watch says it’s twelve seventeen, so in a few more hours Koreatown will be open for business. For me, and people like me, that is. For the commoners, it’ll be locked up tighter than a hero’s trophy room. If I remember right, the switch is at three AM, and it takes me three hours to walk six miles, so I’ll be there perfectly on time. I hope a communicator is on time there too.