Lenny raised his head after a few seconds and found that instead of the goons leaving after their boss, they were now cracking their fists, flexing their necks, and ominously approaching him.
Chills ran down his spine and the color on his face was drained. Fear and desperation filled his voice as he called out, "B-Boss! Boss, I swear I'll pay!"
Then, seeing Boss Falconer was already gone, he pleaded, "H-Hey guys? Can't we just talk this out? I've promised to pay the Boss already, I've promised…"
The towering goon at the forefront, with a ghastly scar that ran from his forehead and below his left eye, sneered, "Don't worry, we will be gentle."
His assurance offered no comfort to Lenny, who desperately crawled backward, pleading some more, "G-Guys, let's just talk this out okay? Th-There's no need for violence. I-I'm a very reasonable person…"
Ignoring his pleas, the two other goons grabbed Lenny by the shoulder and hoisted him off the floor, rendering him defenseless.
"Shut up!" The third goon, fueled by anger and aggression, smacked Lenny across the face.
In an act of brutality, he proceeded to use Lenny as a punching bag.
Bam! Bam! Pow! Bam! Bam!
The hefty, towering goon with a ghastly scar across his face gave Lenny five successive, calculated strikes on different sides of his abdomen.
Lenny threw up a mixture of blood and the undigested noodles he just had as his body went limp. The two goons that held him up, laughed at the sight, seemingly enjoying it.
Then, the towering goon aggressively took hold of Lenny's hair and forcefully raised his head. With a devilish grin etched on his face, he declared in a deep voice,
"Don't pay up, we will be back. Idiot."
Lenny's voice croaked as he struggled to mutter, "I'll… pay… I swear…"
"Of course, you will," the goon said.
Bam!
The towering goon headbutted Lenny, instantly rendering him unconscious.
The two goons at the sides finally released Lenny, allowing him to fall helplessly to the ground.
"Hahaha, I'll always love this job," the chinese-looking goon said.
Ptooey!
The other goon just spat on Lenny's face.
Carrying out an order from the towering goon, they ruthlessly thrashed the apartment, leaving a scene of destruction in their wake.
When they were finally satisfied with their display of power, they left, considering their job well done.
Lenny soon regained consciousness, but he remained curled up into a ball with the vomit beside him—physically and emotionally shattered.
Whimpering like an injured dog, he cried bitterly as his battered body served as a painful reminder of the cruel experience he just endured.
Alone in the re-decorated studio apartment, he stayed in that position for a long while before taking out his phone and re-enabling the Top Idol app.
'…What was there to even lose in the first place?'
Despite the excruciating pain and aches he felt, Lenny slowly mustered the strength to get up.
As he briefly scanned the room, his swollen eyes were drawn outside.
Past the sliding door of his balcony, sitting on the railing, was a pitch-black crow with ominous purple eyes.
After meeting Lenny's gaze for a few seconds, it soared away.
…
After the ordeal, Lenny administered first aid to himself, cleaned the cut on his lip, and boiled some water to press down the swollen areas of his body, including his bruised left eye.
Despite the agonizing aches from numerous areas of his body, mostly consisting of his head, arms, ribs, and thighs, Lenny still prepared himself for his night shift, which was meant to start at 4:00 PM. He didn't even mind the scattered apartment.
He took a shower and got dressed in casual clothes—a long-sleeve t-shirt, loose blue jeans, and black-brown sandals. To mask the bruises on his face, he simply wore a black surgical face mask—which only covered his mouth and nose, leaving only his reddened, bruised left eye visible.
Face masks weren't all that uncommon after the worldwide pandemic three years ago. Neapolis had undergone a lockdown period to limit the outbreak's spread within the city.
Done with his preparations, Lenny limped out of the one-bedroom apartment and took the subway to Jack's QuickStop convenience store, located on Lincoln Avenue, The Victorias—the borough of the upper-middle-class.
This time, he wasn't so late so Mr. Singh didn't yell at him too much. When asked about his bruised eye by the latter, he told him he fell in the bathroom when he was taking his bath.
Standing behind the counter of the convenience store, Lenny's mind wasn't in a whirlwind of confusion or fear. No. He felt… lost, and angry.
On the subway here, he had read the rules and regulations of the Top Idol app and how it essentially functioned. Basically, pointers earned viral points by performing tasks. So now, he just needed to receive a task.
It said tasks were given at random based on the desires of the Pointer. However, it was still too vague for Lenny. Numerous questions plagued his mind.
Was there a specific time of the day the tasks arrived? How about when he was away from his phone? What would the tasks entail? Could he be told to… kill?
Amid his internal turmoil, time seemed to slip away, the world outside the store bustled with its usual activities as the night fell. The city of Neapolis carried on with its routines, unaware of the struggles in the lives of its inhabitants.
Lenny had scoured the entire app within intervals when there were no customers, understanding its nook and cranny and creating a plan for when he earned viral points. He had to test the app's features and fully determine its legitimacy.
The customers tonight were even less than the night before. Things were becoming direr for the convenience store.
Lenny had overheard some things some time ago and found out Mr. Singh was on the lookout for a buyer. This made him realize it wouldn't be long before the store was bought and he truly became jobless; this also fueled his reason for the suicide attempt.
Sometime after the clock's shorthand was inching closer to midnight, the dimly lit store was completely devoid of customers, and now, frustration had started to creep into Lenny's mind. He still hadn't received a task.
Suddenly, the door chimed, announcing the arrival of four new customers—two guys and two girls. They looked young.
Leading the group was a slim, pale figure about six feet tall with scattered black-blue dyed hair, donning a leather jacket, a ripped white vest underneath, and skinny leather trousers. With a spider tattoo on the side of his pale-white neck, he walked with an air of playfulness in polished black leather boots.
With his left hand simply tucked in his pocket and his right arm casually draped over the shoulder of one of the two girls, a cheeky grin that stretched from one ear to the other was plastered on his long, pointy-nosed face.
Strolling confidently to the beer section with his girl in tow, he snatched a pack of canned beer and a few packs of cigarettes, stepped forward to the counter, and nonchalantly dropped them.
Lenny narrowed his eyes, and with a professional tone, requested, "Can I see your ID?"
"What?"
The spider-tattooed customer furrowed his eyebrows, his expression tainted with annoyance as he stared back at Lenny.
