Even in the middle of the night, the city that never sleeps lives up to its name. The stray lights from cars and stores cause the night sky to faintly glow as I look for the missing stars that should be there. Sounds of crowds and engines from afar fill my ears, succeeding to disrupt my attempts of relaxation as I stand on this empty rooftop that lies of a building that sits right in the middle of Chinatown. Frustrated, I roughly rub my short, black hair, before I focus my attention on the mask laying on the ground near me. The pure black mask looks like a demon, with small horns on its forehead and a thin, long line with a tooth poking out, supposedly representing a mouth. I got this thing years ago, the only reward from my asshole of an foster father, Jack, when he dump me deep in the territory of some gang’s local branch with a flash drive in my pocket, supposedly containing records of their activity and members. He gave out my identity to them, saying I was going to the various government and I had to spend a week dismantling them and thoroughly burning them to the ground, figuratively and literally. I came back, covered in dirt and blood, and he all he does is look away from the tv to me with a goofy smile that you wouldn’t expect from a highly qualified mercenary and throws that mask towards my feet, as if he knows all about my misadventures. That rat bastard probably was watching me the whole entire time. I smile at the memory while bringing the thin piece of metal towards my face, tying the fabric around my head so it doesn't fall. I bring my black hoodie's sleeves to my forearm, tighten my gloves and laces of my old boots, and lastly, throw my hood over my head, completing the look Black Demon, a name the Chinese bestowed upon me when I shut down one of their operations with a very, very loud explosion. I've been haunting the Chinese mafia for years now, ever since Jack, forced me to get some “real” experience. It was either mess with one of the mafias in New York City or the police, and I rather not be annoyed by a group who can turn the public against me. Because of my decision to tangle with the Chinese, people think I am some kind of vigilante or hero, but truthfully, I am far from it. I wouldn't go too far out of my way to help someone, most of the things I do is for my own self-benefit. I am no hero, I'm just like everyone else in that aspect. Also, even though he told to do this for experience, I don't hesitate to make money off my personal endeavors. I steal money, information, even important objects, and sell them to the black market. I got tons of money at my disposal, just waiting to be spent. I shake the daydreams that came from nowhere away as I focus at the task at hand. My latest score is only possible because the Chinese's number four, Chu Yamamoto, personally came here from Hong Kong, and following close behind is a major shipment of drugs, money, stolen antiques, you name it. My employer, a major informant of NYC's underworld, tell me since Yamamoto is involved with a family struggle, he has few places to stay. This time, he is staying in one of his safe houses in an abandoned apartment building. I need to bypass security, make it to the floor Yamamoto is currently staying on, find his computer and steal the information on the shipment. This, by far, will be the most dangerous and difficult thing I have ever done. I'm going in with little to no information about defenses, location, not even a blueprint of the building. I'm basically going in blind, making it even more dangerous. Ignoring the bad feeling welling up in my chest, I breathe one last deep breath and try to calm myself. I break into a sprint, accelerating with each passing moment, with the ledge from the other side of the building quickly approaching. When I'm near the ledge, I stomp on the edge that reaches to my waist and jump with all my might. Quickly passing the five feet gap in between the buildings, I land on the ledge in a crouching position with my hands tightly grasping the end. I calmly surveyed  my surroundings, looking for anything out of place. After find nothing in particular, I lightly jump onto the roof, and quickly make my way to the door. Even as I arrive to the door and pick the lock, my gut seems to drop at each passing moment, seemingly yelling at me, but I can’t hear what it’s trying to tell me, I only hear the low hum of traffic and my lock picks fiddling with the lock. I finish picking the lock with ease, and slowly open the door, peer into the gap I made. Weirdly enough, I find that no one is guarding the entrance. Paying little attention to the growing knot in the pit of my stomach, I walk cautiously down the hall. The lights and sounds from the bustling streets seems as though they never have existed, as the only thing that penetrates this walls is the cold from the fall. As I start to question if this really is the right building, I hear the soft steps of someone walking down the hall. I bolt soundlessly to the closest corner nearest to the sound and wait in a crouch. As soon as a foot appears in my vision, I jump up and with all my weight, connect my fist with person's chin. He fell down, instantly knocked out by my punch. I use this chance to observe and search my victim. He's a average Asian man wearing a hat and street clothes, and while searching him, I find a fully loaded Beretta pistol stuffed behind his back. I sigh in displeasure, then wordlessly dismantle the pistol and collect the bullets, just in case the bastard wakes up. I throw him into one of the abandoned apartments and make my way down the floors. Unfortunately, the farther I go down, the denser the security gets. At one point, I had to avoid a group of three guards, as it would be impossible to end the fight quietly.

'Must be because I'm nearing Yamamoto. '

I was thinking as I sneak into the fifth floor and arrived at a scene that shocked me. The floors and walls looked good as new as they were decorated with red and gold colors. Expensive looking paintings that seemed to have originated from Asia spreaded out on each wall with a lit candle placed between each one.

'Fuck!'

I mentally curse at the shitty situation. Now I won't be able to sneak in the darkness. I quit hiding and walk at a brisk place to an apartment door that looks brand new in comparison to the rotting and chipped doors belonging to the other apartments.

‘This has to be the one.’

I quickly pick the lock while on the lookout for any guards, which seems to a futile action. The terrible feeling suddenly intensifies as I quickly enter the apartment, ignoring the grandness it possess ,with a red paint job with golden trims and ancient looking decorations everywhere. I hurriedly search the rooms, finding the laptop in the third room. I hack my way through the passwords with relative ease and connect my flash drive to the laptap , downloading anything that seems important. As the download was almost complete, I hear a cold, emotionless voice emit from behind me.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

"So you're the great Black Demon that terrorize my men and hinder my operation."

My stomach drops ,as if thrown of a skyscraper, at the sound of that voice.

‘Dammit, it was a trap’

Without even turning back to greet my new opponent, I  disconnect my flashdrive instantly start run out of the room towards an old air-conditioner and kick it in. Using my newfound path, I jump on the ledge, and with the help of a few broken bricks, I make it to an apartment on the sixth floor. I hear yelling in something incomprehensible to me, most likely Chinese, but I ignore it, quickly ripping off the wood that was too rotten to block the window and break it, and climbing inside the room. I run outside, only to find henchman flooding one of the halls. I continue running into another stairwell, only to have a punch to the face, followed by a punch to the gut. Being unable to fall here or face the agony of torture they well undoubtedly give me befor killing me, I ignore the pain and kick the scumbag in the side of his knee. While he screams at the pain of having his leg broken, I kick him down the stairs. Realizing that the angry mob were almost upon me, I bolt up the stairs, making my way to the roof-top. I kick open the door and halfway to the ledge, I hear the crowd behind me start to shoot. I zig-zag, hoping to have the bullets miss me, but the effort was proven to be worthless, as pain shoot through my back. I mentally curse at the pain while I continue running as fast as I can with no obstacles to block my escape. I jump onto the ledge and push myself as I hard as I can, aiming at another abandoned building nearby. That was a grave mistake. The lackies use this chance while I can't dodge and shoot towards me more. They manage to get me again, this time through my thigh. Screaming at the new pain, I miss the ledge on the roof and ended up landing on a fire escape on what looked like to be the seventh floor. Unable to get right back up, I watch the crowd jump from one building to the other, one by one. I pick myself up, almost collapsing from the massive waves of pain, and prepare for a gamble. I break the window and enter the  apartment. Turning on the, luckily, still working oven on to the highest heat it can muster, I throw the many bullets I collected from the gangsters inside. I set up a metal board on a wall next the kitchen on the side of me and sit down while ripping some fabric off my jacket and tightly wrap them around my bullet wounds on my shoulder and thigh. Not long after I finish, the lackies finally burst into the room, heading straight towards me. They pummel and kick me into the ground, yelling something in Chinese at me. I then hear a commanding voice yell something incomprehensible to me and everyone steps back from me. One person breaks through the crowd, his Asian face cold and emotionless. Since he is the only one out of everyone here wearing a suit, I'm going to assume that is Yamamoto.

"You caused us a lot of trouble, Black Demon. Is there a specific reason as to why you're trying to be a hero?"

Although he questioned with a monotone voice, I could tell he was generally interested.

"I'm no hero, I just wanted to relieve some boredom, and I was killing two birds with one stone."

I say through my mask, picking myself up sitting against the wall, where I'll be safe from the incoming storm of bullets. His face twitches as I calmly answer, as he slowly takes a pistol from a nearby lacky and aims it at my head. Counting down the time remaining for the bullets to explode, I frown under my mask, understanding that I need to stall for my time.

"Doesn't the big bad wolf want to see the real demon under the mask who has been plaguing his operations."

I say as slowly as I can without sounding suspicious, just a little more time.

"Not at all, I don't care for a bug's identity."

"Who’s the bug here."

He frowns as I say that, before answering back in a deeper voice.

"Insects should know their place in the food chain."

"I completely agree with you, Yamamoto."

Right on time, the bullets in the oven explode, shooting in all different directions.I use this chance to kick the gun out of Yamamoto's hand and jump out the window I came in, climbing down the rails as fast as I possibly can. I reach the concrete and limp off into another alleyway before they can start shooting at me again. I take my bloody body into the subway, attracting the stares of everyone around me, some who even began to pull out their phones. I walk into the subway tunnel, and continue into a smaller tunnel that diverges from the main one.

'This operation was a bust, I need to get home.'

I crouch down and crawl into a small tunnel, ignoring my body screams of pain. Quickly reaching a tunnel that not many people know about, I walk slowly down the unlit path, a path less traveled by, a path of little light and plenty darkness.