John Lenin, now under the identity of Shin-Man, walked down the city’s streets. It was a dark night, with only the light of the street lamps and moon to illuminate the shadowy alleyways he passed.

Like a laser, he was hyper focused on his objective. He needed to find out where his sock was being held captive and rescue it. In order to do so, he needed to know where E.VLE’s headquarters was.

Which meant investigation and gathering information. Luckily, he knew a place for that.

With purpose, he turned a corner and began heading to a certain building. The store’s sign hung in front of him, flashing it’s bright neon letters into the city’s nightlife.

[MATT’S MATTRESS MANSION]

He walked inside the store and over to a nearby salesman.

“Hello sir, how can I help you?” Asked the salesman. “We have a plethora of mattresses here. From Emperor-class to waterbeds, you’ll find it all!”

Shin-Man showed a grim, cutting grin, and pulled a note out of his trench-coat.

Handing it to the salesman, he said: “I would like to see your special mattresses. I believe they are called… Mudpies?”

The salesman’s eyes narrowed at Shin-Man’s code, and began reading the note. The note only contained one word. ‘Drink’, it read.

The man slowly nodded, and looked back up at Shin-Man.

“I think I understand what kind of mattress you are in need of, sir. Please follow me.”

Shin-Man obliged, and followed the salesman over to a section of the store partitioned from the rest and devoid of security-cameras.

Wordlessly, the salesman walked over to an inconspicuous mattress and lifted it up from the bedframe it was resting on. In doing so, he revealed an electrical-outlet, somehow connected to the mattress’ underside.

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The young salesman then strode over to the wall, where an equally-inconspicuous cable laid. He plugged the electric cable into the mattress and the room began rumbling.

A part of the wall fell away, revealing a mysterious passage downwards.

Shin-Man nodded to the salesman and plodded down the low-lit passage. The salesman didn’t follow.

The tunnel continued a ways downwards, before leveling out and ending at a door. Shin-Man opened the door, and strode in.

Immediately, he was greeted by bright, multicolored lights and laughter. A thick scent of food and alcohol filled the air. Well-dressed men and women sat at booths, talking to each other and dining.

This was the true face of Matt’s Mattress Mansion; a covert dining establishment where criminals, outlaws, and the otherwise lawless negotiated business with each other. It was essentially a high-society meeting place for crime-bosses and mercenaries.

And at the famed bar, the person of Shin-Man’s interest sat on a stool, sipping a bubbling yellow drink. The man wore a pink fedora with a zebra pattern, as well as a snazzy purple suit.

Shin-Man walked over to the bar and sat down beside the oddly-dressed man.

“Hello friend.” He started. “I don’t suppose you’d be interested in some business?”

The man turned around and looked at him.

“Ah, Shin-Man. It’s been too long. I thought you had retired?”

Shin-Man shook his head sadly.

“While I am no longer active as a crime-fighter, I am, unfortunately, still plagued by the forces of evil that grip this city.”

The unnamed man nodded.

“Yes, aren’t we all? Heroes and villains alike, ha ha! Well, tell me what you want done, and I’ll give you my price.”

“Straight to business, eh? Alright then.” Said Shin-Man. “I want information on E.VLE. They’ve crossed the line and stolen something precious to me. I need to take them down and recover it.”

“Hmm…” mused the unnamed man. “That’s quite the story. E.VLE, huh. They’ve been getting stronger in the past few years, despite what you put them through back when you were active. I can give you the locations of some of their safe-houses, as well as where some of their businesses are. You’d only find mooks there, but it’s better than nothing.”

Shin-Man nodded at the fedora man’s words. He did need to start somewhere if he was to find his precious missing sock.

“I can work with that. What is your price?”

The snazzy man cupped his chin in thought.

“I can do you a thousand ruks per safe house. Five hundred per operating area. That’ll be… five-thousand five-hundred ruks.”

Shin-Man winced at the price. But information was information, and he needed his sock back.

“Done.” He said, handing the man some money.

The money was counted, and the unnamed man said: “I’ll send you a text file within the next ten minutes. I suggest you get out of here though, before E.VLE realizes you’re here.”

Shin-Man glanced around and noticed various men in the corners, each wearing a uniform with a familiar, stylized E.

He nodded to the snazzy man, stood from the bar, and that was that.