In a dark warehouse, a gang of thieving thugs started beating and bruising some random tall middle-aged man in a gray or faded dark blue tailcoat. The group consisted of three people, they all had a rather bizarre hairstyle and were wearing stereotypical motorcycle jackets. Two of the rather skinny ones at the back were wielding a bat and a metal crowbar while the leader of the bunch whom was significantly buff compared to the others, had improvised with his fat bare fist.

How the conflict began was unknown, but one could guess that these gentlemen were merely just settling some differences. One thing led to another, and eventually these small matters escalated. It turned into a fight, though it could hardly be identified as one. It was too one-sided as the group of felons continue to beat down the guy, shoving him over, bruising his body and knocking him down dropping him to his arms, knees, ass, back, and front. But the man doesn’t seem to falter to always stand right back up.

"Mr. Sialis, the man who couldn't decide which to forget or which to remember."

"I've never heard of such title from anyone’s mouth before.”

"After all this time, after getting knocked down over and over. Even after we've injured your arms and legs. How are you able to pick yourself up?"

“……….” Mr. Sialis didn’t know how to answer that question. He placed his arms against the ground and pushed himself up again. He slightly bent his knees and levelled his footwork, raising the both of his arms in front of him as if he were assuming a fighting stance.

Truth be told, he never really acknowledged that he had the ability to pick himself up so many times until now. He doesn’t remember what he was fighting for, but as long as he’s still alive and conscious, he didn’t plan to stay down any time soon.

“I’ve tried staying down before. It only made me restless.”

"Oh yeah? And what if we take the both of your arms and legs? Won't you still be able to pick yourself up till then?”

“Unfortunately, I plan to keep them. So, I guess we’ll never find out.”

All three of the thugs rushed at the defenseless man with beat-up clothes.

Mr. Sialis raised his arms up to block a line of consecutive punches from the front while the other two thugs raised their objects and swung them, hitting his leg with a crowbar and his torso, damaging the bones of his ribcage with a wooden bat.

 

 

 

4:33am ???????,

Local Commercial bldg,

Mr. Sialis’s Office.

 

He woke up on the floor in a cold sweat. He sat right back up. And before he knew it, he stood back up again.

He raised the both of his arms, bent his knees and levelled his footwork. He looked around the room though it looked all blurry and fuzzy to him as his eyes were still adjusting.

“…Nghh!!” He groaned in pain.

He was forced to place his head in the palm of his hand. Closing his eyes in frustration. All of the sudden he felt this splitting headache as the circulation of his blood started rushing from his head and body.

Right, the doctor told me not to get up so quickly upon waking up. Mr. Sialis thought. What a pain…!

He later found out that he was in his office, alone as usual, and finding that his beddings are on the floor instead of the couch. He then patted himself around and all over his body.

No pain. No Bruises. He’s still intact. Unscathed.

“Getting beat up by a group of thugs. It was all but a dream.”

Of course. it was. It made so much sense to him now.

Mr. Sialis didn’t remember how the conflict between those three and him started. There was no conflict to begin with. And besides, I wouldn’t have foolishly let myself be beat up so easily. He doesn’t usually get into a lot of fights, but he’s pretty well built enough to protect himself.

He had the sort of dream that you can forget easily after waking up, but after reimagining those thugs and recalculating any and every other possible outcome for that fight, he knew, confidently, for a fact that it was a fight he could won no matter how many times he needed to pick himself up.

I wonder what was that all about. Mr. Sialis muttered to himself.

He collapsed back to the floor, landing his head on his scattered bedding.

Shortly after, he stood back up again, this time slower and less paranoid. Careful enough not to trigger another headache.

Mr. Sialis then grabbed himself a mug of water to cool himself off as he processed the situation calmly… well, I suppose there wasn’t anything to worry about in the first place. After all, it was just a dream. None of it was real. But he still ponders why he still had it.

He refused to sleep on beds because of nightmares and certain dreams. He thought he’d avoid them that way, and it worked. He slept on the couch and he slept on the floor and none of the so-called nightmares occurred to Mr. Sialis since then.

The nightmares he had just now wasn’t the same as the past ones. And other than that, he at least slept soundly.

Mr. Sialis looked at the time to find that it’s still a little too early in the morning. He peeked through the window blinds of his office to find that it’s still dark outside, but he’s decided to take a stroll anyways.

He wanted to keep his mind off of things, and he figured that he couldn’t do that if he just stayed cooped up in his office, alone.

It was past work or open hours but he decided to give the firm a good ol’ visit anyways. Mr. Sialis had two offices, one was given to him by the firm, while the other was from some commercial building he rented space for. Other than that, he didn’t own any residents. He had two offices both for business purposes, but only one of them is a personal office he’s allowed to sleep into.

 

❖      ❖      ❖      ❖

Sirens filled the empty streets that early morning—if it can even still be considered a morning yet. The sun hasn’t risen, and the street lamps were still brightly lit, luminating the passersby on sidewalks, and aiding light ahead of the roads that started leading with two police cars and the deafening screech of their tires as they broke to a halt in front of a conspicuous, bright building.

These police cars carried police officers reporting for duty after being alerted about a hostage taking in front of a law firm.

The perpetrator wielded a knife with his left arm, and he held a hostage with his right. Both dressed formally in business suits, the hostage taker was a male with combed and gelled jet-black hair with distinctive glasses while his hostage was a female, who’s wearing a pearl necklace and earrings. She also had black hair tied up into a donut bun.

The cops stepped out of their vehicle. Three fresh faces and one older policeman with a megaphone in hand.

“Put the knife down or we will fire”

“No, you won’t.” A random pedestrian explained, entering the scene. “The precinct’s reputation has been depleted from a certain number of incidents that involved the abuse of gun violence. So, if you’re trying to win back the people. I advise you to not… miss at the very least, and do your jobs properly.”

The man was wearing an outfit with colors that rather looks like it’s mainly composed of a shade of really dark blue. He was wearing a tail coat and a hat. And it seems that he’s wearing a small attorney’s badge, adorned on the collar of his coat. The man was a lawyer, and he was right. The men on the cop’s side are amateurs, rookies fresh out of criminology education and police training—that could easily be observed by the contrast of their uniforms in comparison to the old policeman’s. The uniforms the rookies wore had a very recent design change with a slightly brighter color, while the old policemen had a less-saturated, outdated look, but they still kept and praised it to show that he’s a senior or a cop of a higher experience.

“Who the hell are you?!” the senior cop asked the lawyer.

“Someone who’s running a little too early for work.” The lawyer answered. “But that’s not the point right now—”

“Get the hell out of the way!!” The cop yelled at the man, warning him and accidentally shouting into the megaphone.

Everyone flinched from the shout that echoed through the entire street. Waking up the nearby neighbors in their nearby apartments, forcing them to turn on the lights to look out the window to see what the hell was going on out there, and the hostage-taker on the other hand got startled as he clenched the knife slightly deeper into his hostage’s neck, merely and barely slicing the epidermis of her skin.

The lawyer covered his ears when the senior cop yelled at him.

“Okay, okay. I’m just a few centimeters from you. If you’re gonna talk to me, put the megaphone down.” The lawyer said, carefully removing his hands from covering his ears.

It’s just one hostage taker. How could they have so much trouble?

But truly, it couldn’t, shouldn’t and won’t ever be that simple. The cops have open aim, but since no one is hurt yet, then they can’t risk injuring the hostage taker himself yet. And since the hostage taker has leverage, they can’t quite apprehend him either.

“Listen, if anyone’s going to get out of here alive, I’m gonna need a few things.” The hostage-taker spoke out loud.

The previously mentioned perpetrator then began to list a number of things he wanted for ransom in exchange for the life of his hostage. He demanded thousands worth of cash, and a getaway helicopter with enough fuel to travel in a distant foreign country.

“A typical request from a typical hostage-taker with outrageous ambitions.”

There was a fair distance between the cops and the crim. And the rookies on the cop’s side were being extra careful as they should be. They weren’t exactly cowering out, but they know very well that one shot could end the situation in many ways, especially if they miss that shot. If the cops shoot and they miss the shot, they could startle the hostage taker even more into killing his hostage, they could shoot the hostage themselves by accident, or they could end up killing that hostage taker—which isn’t something they should decide on their own just yet.

The cops—especially the rookies—were trained, freshly trained at that matter, but that doesn’t make them confident shooters in a real and serious situation.

The lawyer did just as the lieutenant said and he got out of his way… only to get around the situation by disturbing another cop. This cop was a newbie and he started shaking and sweating bullets just by holding the iron gun in his hand. You could tell it was his first day. The lawyer just couldn’t bear to stand there and watch them handle it. He held the police officer’s gun along with his hand and he closed his left eye to aim with his right. The cop didn’t quite know how to react at the time, but it shouldn’t take a while for him to take action, so whatever the man intended to do, he needed to do it quick.

The man then forced the police officer’s hand to shoot the gun—

BANG!!!

The loud gunshot rang through the entire street, getting everyone to turn their attention to where they heard it from. And the gunshot was shortly accompanied by a deep scream in agony followed by the sound of bloodshed, a little blood splatter and the sound of a metal tool clanking, as if it had just been dropped.

Unfortunately, blood did shed that early morning.

The bullet from the gunshot the lawyer and the policeman shot travelled, just about grazing over the skin of the hostage taker’s left forearm, hurting and shocking the perpetrator into dropping his knife from his hand—pointing its blade towards the hostage’s neck—to the ground.

The bullet grazed over the hostage-taker’s skin, merely scraping him. Though, that mere scrape seemed to be enough to make him bleed.

Upon the hostage taker’s release, the hostage dropped crouching down to the ground with her legs shaking in fear. She grabbed the knife the hostage taker threatened her with, but after that, she just seemed to stay in place, too afraid to move any further.

At the time, the cops glanced over to the lawyer in the dark blue tailcoat whom shot the police officer’s firearm, but after hearing the scream, they turned their attention the main importance at hand.

While the hostage taker was distracted and unarmed, the senior cops ordered the two rookies to apprehend him. They hand cuffed the hostage-taker who’s arm was treated shortly after by a paramedic.

The lawyer in the dark-blue tailcoat approached the hostage whom was also being treated, and he asked a considerately insensitive question to her.

“Isn’t it still too early for the firm to open up for the day?”

“I was called in early to attend and open the first floor due to an unknown reason. Though, shortly after that, I realized that it was a trap to take me hostage.” The hostage answered the man’s question.

Apparently, they identified the hostage to be Rinoa Connors the woman running the front reception desk at the law firm. While the hostage-taker was identified shortly after as Ian Gunchron, a lawyer working in that same law firm.

However, Mr. Gunchron wasn’t the only man who was arrested that night. Two men were handcuffed, the other man being identified as Mr. Sialis, whom shot the hostage-taker in pursuit to deescalate the situation himself.

 

Don’t be a hero. Mr. Sialis DID intend to help the cops but he still got arrested anyway for interfering with the cops and shooting a firearm in their presence. What he did wasn’t right, correct, or in anyway, lawful, even to those self-righteous ones.

 

 6:45pm September 2,

Dark Geranium Police Department,

The Detention centers.

 

And just like that, an entire day wasted.

It wasn’t like the cops had a lot of questions for Mr. Sialis, rather they just gave him some sort of time out at the detention center.

“It’s not like it’s the first time he’s done something this outrageous either.” The experienced lieutenant bantered, sighing and looking at the detained Mr. Sialis being set free.

Mr. Sialis walked right out of his cell. Though, just as he’s exiting the building, he’s currently faced with a rather young police officer—staring at him straight in the eye with this nonchalant expression on his face, refusing to step out and away from Mr. Sialis’s way.

There doesn’t seem to be anything notable about the police officer’s appearance other than him appropriately wearing his uniform. Red and blue coat and hat and all. It seemed that the certain stubborn police officer wanted something to do with the formerly detained individual in question.

“What do you want?” Mr. Sialis asked, looking down at the he had this pissed off, disrespectful glare in his eyes, and his face wore this obviously grumpy expression. Perhaps anyone would feel the way he’s expressing if they felt self-righteously punished unfairly. Like a child post-tantrum, sour from being grounded all day, however, doesn’t want to cause a scene to avoid further punishment.

Mr. Sialis clearly wasn’t in the mood, and he almost wanted to call the police officer in front of him a brat, but he figured that doing so will only cost him an entire night of detainment in the detention center, and that he’d rather be liberated earlier just so that he can stop by a couple of places—like his favorite bar—before he’ll head back to spend the night on the couch of his beloved office than to rot under the roof in a cell of a local precinct.

“This is officer Arfare.” The police officer behind Mr. Sialis Introduced. “He’ll be escorting you back to your office safely.”

“Unnecessary.” Mr. Sialis bluntly shot down in an instant. “I can take care of myself, and besides, I’m definitely a lot more experienced that he is anyways.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Officer Arfare interjected. “Don’t you remember what you did to me and today at all?”

“I meant, what I meant.” Mr. Sialis rebutted. “And I’m sure I would’ve recognized you by now if we’ve met before, but unfortunately………… hm…?”

Mr. Sialis bent his knees a little lower and leaned a little bit forward just to  take a closer look at the younger police officer in front of him. It turns out that he did indeed almost recognize him.

Another detail that particularly caught his attention was the empty holster on the young officer’s hip. With that detail in mind, he came to the conclusion that either Officer Arfare is a clumsy klutz, forgetful enough to misplace such important and lethal firearm, or that his firearm was confiscated due to some sort of irresponsibility and or negligence.

Connecting the dots together. The particular police officer will be escorting the former detainee of the detention center. For some reason he’s unarmed. For some reason he knows who Mr. Sialis is, and for some reason Mr. Sialis could almost recognize him in return. Now the questions with all those details in mind, all start with ‘why?’

And Mr. Sialis might’ve reached a conclusion.

The answer to that is because….

“Just think of him as our eyes and ears for monitoring you.” A police officer interjected before Mr. Sialis could connect the dots of his observation.

 

7:13pm September 2,

Dark Geranium Police Department,

The Entrance & Parking Lot.

 

Mr. Sialis and Officer Arfare exited the precinct. Thus began the escorting of the recently detained individual in question.

Mr. Sialis—being fresh out of the detention center, and finding out that it’s already the evening—had just decided to speak out his first words upon being liberated.

“You’re the officer whose hand I forced to shoot that gun I shot to apprehend the hostage taker this morning.” Mr. Sialis identified the familiar police officer.

“Gee, how could you have figured that out?” Officer Arfare sarcastically replied.

However, Mr. Sialis took it as a serious question, hence he seriously answered and explained his conclusion.

“Well, first of all, I suppose that the catalyst of my observation generally and most importantly involves around the fact that you recognized me. Then from that point on I just have to figure out how I got involved with a young police officer such as yourself in the first place.”

“Uhuh.” Officer Arfare uninterestingly nodded.

“I noticed that despite every other cop in the precinct being equipped with a gun attached to their hip regardless of their positions or where they’ve been. Whether they’re the guards of the entrance, whether they’re stationed in the office or as the receptionist, or as a bailiff, or hell! Even if they just finished occupying the comfort room. You’re the only one whom seem to have their gun misplaced or confiscated. And that’s when and where it hit me. Given your pissed-off attitude at the sight and upon thought of recognizing me, AND given from the events that transpired starting from this morning to at this very moment right now—judging and basing on and off from observations, basic cause and effect, and with the help and ideas from a few couple of assumptions—I formed a hypothesis that you were indeed the police officer who’s hand I forced into shooting a gun. This effected your loyalty, obedience and trust for your superiors, as well as the effect of negligence of your lethal firearm—which was trusted to you—only to have it used by your hands being forced by a civilian. So, as a penalty or punishment, you are stripped from the responsibility of carrying a gun, AND you have to escort me to my office without it. This will also serve as a test of whether or not you shall be trusted in the force. After all, the reason why your superiors have to be stricter with their supervision in the first place is because of the people losing faith in the police. And that the mayor’s decided to reduce the tax to pay for your services—and before I get even further, I’m afraid I’ll have to rest my case.” Mr. Sialis explained and concluded.

Officer Arfare sighed upon hearing Mr. Sialis’s elaborate hypothesis.

“You lost my interest at the beginning there… however, I can’t deny that you’re correct about the whole punishment and test and all. Word for word. But that’s all I’m going to say about it.” Officer Arfare commented. “You sure are a lawyer aren’t you…? At least with the part with being quick with the research and deductions and all.”

“Hmph, well, that’s what they call me at least.”

“What is that supposed to mean…? And y’know, you seem to be more of a detective than a lawyer. I acknowledge your skill in deduction and all, but lawyers aren’t just that. You lawyers are supposed to be more knowledgeable in legal terms.”

“I get that a lot.” Mr. Sialis replied. “Detectives mostly serve as professional witnesses during a trial in the court proceedings. However, I just happen to represent people and stand beside them instead of taking the witness stand…— Come to think of it, how about I’ll tell you all about it over a drink.”

“A drink…? Hahah, very funny but I’m afraid it’s a little too late too early for that.” Officer Arfare scoffed, looking around and surveillance the area as he speaks. He then turned his gaze to the person he’s supposedly escorting, but he’s disappeared and ran off into the distance, just turning the corner. “Hey! Hey!! Where are you going?!” he chased after the lawyer like he’s finding a lost child. Fortunately, he was able to catch up to him after turning to the corner he disappeared into. “The address of your office building is on the 52^nd avenue street that way.”

“I’m going for a drink.” Mr. Sialis ignorantly replied.

“Oi, I’m only supposed to escort you to your office. Where do you think you’re dragging yourself into under my supervision?”

Then don’t follow me to the bar if you don’t want to. I won’t cause any more trouble. Just take my word for it. They say you’re their eyes and ears and all that, but you can always turn a blind eye and a deaf ear to head back to the precinct and report to your superiors that you escorted me to my office safely.”

“You know I can’t just do that…—Oi, oi, wait up!! Tsk, he’s run off again!” Officer Arfare was seriously starting to think about tackling Mr. Sialis as soon as he catches him. But alas, he’d rather not risk another punishment or penalty when his superiors hear about him assaulting a civilian on top of his firearm negligence.

Officer Arfare chased after the runaway Mr. Sialis. Though, just as he turned the next corner—

“Oomph! Ah! Excuse me!” Officer Arfare apologized to the two men he bumped into.

Officer Arfare then turned his gaze everywhere, darting his eyes at anything of sight in hopes to search and spot a certain Mr. Sialis. However, as he looked everywhere, he searched up to no avail.

The only suspicious men he spotted were the two he bumped into and currently standing in front of him.

The two men looked like an odd pair, the both of them hung their mouths wide open, and they looked too shocked to be bumping into him they immediately identified as a police officer whom had just ran into them.

The two men looked at Officer Arfare almost as if they’ve seen a ghost.

One man was wearing a brown trench coat with a missing button, while the other was wearing a warm burgundy jacket.

“Have you two seen a big tall man with a dark blue coat and a brown stetson’s looking hat?” Officer Arfare asked the two individuals.

“He went that way.” The man with the missing button coat immediately responded, pointing to the store with a peculiar elaborate name.

Officer Arfare turned his gaze to where the man pointed his finger at, and there, he found Mr. Sialis standing in front of the store, scribbling on some little notebook with some little pen.

The man in the trench coat then nudged the arm of the man in the burgundy jacket. And for a moment, the two of them locked eyes with each other, seemingly communicating without verbal words, but with eye signals and gestures as the man in the trench coat gently and slowly shook his head from the left to right.

“Okay… thanks!” Officer Arfare expressed his gratitude to the two shady inddividuals, completely ignoring their strange actions.

 

 

 

7:49pm September 2,

6^th Ave., Helmet St.

The Viking Wood Pecker Restroom.

 

The two men—one clearly younger than the other—walked into a bar/tavern named the Viking Wood Pecker Restroom.

The both of them took a seat on those tall stools by the bar, and the barkeeper looked at the older man with a sense of familiarity and recognition as he greeted and welcomed them.

“What can I get for you, Mr. Sialia Sialis?” The barkeep welcomed while wiping a glass with a white cloth.

“I’ll have the usual.” Mr. Sialis ordered as if he were a recurring regular customer who usually visits and orders the same thing for himself. “And please, we’ve known each other far too long for you to call my by my full last name. Pensive Excaliber.” He commented, can’t help but grinning a little as he feels teased and is trying to contain the slightest of light laughter.

“Pensive Excalibur…?” Officer Arfare asked, thinking out loud.

He didn’t really read much on Mr. Sialis’s profile, but it only occurred to him now that he doesn’t really know nor remember his first or full name, let alone the fact that he’s an apparent regular at such bar and seems to be acquainted with the bartender quite well.

Between what exactly is Mr. Sialis’s full name or what he was referring to as a Pensive Excalibur. The young police officer decided to ask the latter.

The barkeeper let out a hearty laugh to himself, though it seems as though he were forcing himself to refrain from laughing any louder.

“And here I thought you’ve outgrown such nickname.”

“Never.” Mr. Sialis instantly shot down. “However, I did notice that you’re trying to outgrow from your maniac-like laughter.”

“Pffft— Old habits die hard, but you know we’ve gotta grow up from some things at some point.”

“And you’ve only decided that AFTER twenty years and getting a wife…?”

The bartender ignored Mr. Sialis’s comment with a faint smile as he attended and introduced himself to the customer he brought beside him.

“I’m Chris. Feel free to call me Chris Disgust around these parts.” The bartender introduced himself.

“It might just be me, but I could’ve sworn that Mr. Sialis mentioned something along the lines about an Excalibur.” Officer Arfare commented.

“Pensive Excalibur, meet Officer William Arfare. Officer Arfare, meet my pensive Excalibur. The owner of this fine establishment—The Viking Wood Pecker Restroom.” Mr. Sialis introduced. “We go way back since elementary.” He added.

Officer Arfare was caught off guard and felt shy or even uncomfortable after hearing Mr. Sialis use his name so casually, but there were just more questions in his mind that have yet to be answered.

“But why Pensive Excalibur? Isn’t his name Chris Disgust?” Officer Arfare asked.

“My real full name is Christopher Caliber Pennsylvania.” Bartender Disgust explained. “Since late Highschool, Pensive Excalibur is just a nickname he derived from that full name, I guess.”

“So then… why go by Chris Disgust?” Officer Arfare wondered.

“That’s just a pseudonym I coined and give to the locals and regulars around here.”

“Oh,”

Even though I sort of get it… that’s just so complicated…!! Officer Arfare thought to himself.

The bartender whipped up an orange beverage that once smelled like orange juice, however became unrecognizable when he added a yellow beverage into the mix. He served the drink in a rather regular sized glass beer mug, leaving the finished product as this mustard-yellow beverage which started foaming at its upmost layer, almost spilling from the mug’s rim as he served it to Mr. Sialis.

“No sugar?” Mr. Sialis asked.

“Yep.” Mr. Disgust promptly answered.

“Held the pulp?” Mr. Sialis continued to interrogate.

“Yep.” Mr. Disgust confidently responded as he presented him with evidence. A shot glass of the remains of orange pulp and something yellow in the mix that’s a little difficult to identify.

“Freshly squeezed and shook? Not the ones bought at the market with the shitty brands such as DOME?”

“Oh, you KNOW it’s the only stock we’re trying to get rid of at the moment.”

Mr. Sialis took a sip from his mug.

“It’s acceptable.” He affirmed.

Bartender Disgust let out a deep breath in relief.

“Good, well, it’s on the house. I have been trying to get rid of that stuff for ages, and frankly, you’re the only one who orders them anyways.” Mr. Disgust pensively vented before he tended to his next customer. “So, what will it be?” he asked the young Officer Arfare.

“He’ll have a cold and calm brew.” Mr. Sialis stated. “This one’s on me.” He added, lacing a couple of coins down at the counter of the bar.

“A cold and calm brew?” Officer Arfare thought out loud.

“It’s this bar’s version of iced-tea.” Mr. Sialis briefly explained.

“Yeah, but we serve normal iced tea too…” Bartender Disgust added, looking at Mr. Sialis curiously as if he thinks he’s up to something. “What he’s not telling you is that the cold & calm brew is mostly served for people with anxiety and insomnia. It calms them down, and the people who bought and drank it claims that it’s like the best iced chamomile tea they’ve ever tasted.”

Mr. Disgust efficiently brewed and served up the cold and calm brew in a normal regular-sized glass cup, and he placed it on front of the police officer.

“Hang on, I didn’t say that I wanted this.”

“Well, he brewed it.” Mr. Sialis stated, pointing towards Bartender Disgust.

“In the first place, it’s satisfying to brew the beverage since it’s one of the easiest ones I can make.” Bartender Disgust rebutted, pointing at Mr. Sialis. “And besides, he’s the one who ordered it.”

“I don’t and won’t accept drinks from a shady individual.” Officer Arfare stated his cautions. “And besides, I’m supposed to be ESCORTING you back to your office. Remember?” he added looking at Mr. Sialis.

“Oh, so that’s the situation.” Mr. Disgust thought out loud, finally grasping on t the idea after almost feeling like he’s been kept in the dark this entire time.

“If you don’t want it, then pass it onto the kind folks and gentlemen over there.” Mr. Sialis offered. “Just don’t waste it. After getting your firearm confiscated, I just figured that I owed you one. That’s all.”

“Hmm…? Is that so…? You’re not trying to imply anything else at all after ordering me a drink that’s often served to anxious customers?”

“I thought I could make it up to you by buying you the second-best drink in this place.”

“Second…?”

“That’s a misconception.” Mr. Disgust interjected. “Of course, I could make pina coladas and cocktails and all that. Even serve some brandy for the sober. But in this establishment, apparently, the cold and calm brew is my best seller. He just thinks the drink he usually orders is the number 1 best drink as an opinion. When really, no one else buys it other than him. The beverage he orders might as well be considered as a personal acquired taste for him.”

“I see… is it really that good?” Officer Arfare asked.

“Ask around the regulars here. They’ll agree.”

“But of course, it’s not as good as the iced-tea served at Gamsy and Blue’s.” Mr. Sialis interjected.

“I second that.” Bartender Disgust agreed.

“Gamsy and Blue’s…?” Officer Arfare asked, thinking out loud. “That musty old pizza parlor at 92^nd avenue?”

“”….!!””

Mr. Sialis almost spat his beverage out, and a glass almost slipped out of Bartender Disgust’s grip as he was wiping it. The both of them were utterly disturbed from what came out of the young officer’s mouth.

“Musty…? Old…?” Bartender Disgust muttered in disbelief, almost trembling at the thought.

“Our childhood……” Mr. Sialis muttered, mourning a little and almost going through the four stages of grief then and there.

Gamsy and Blue’s is a pizza parlor ad it is indeed loved and adored by children all of the city and neighborhood……… 25 years ago.

Officer Arfare on the other hand, was significantly younger than the other two. He left the both of them speechless, devasted, feeling old and having them reevaluate their life from just that one sentence he spoke.

Officer Arfare finally took a leisure sip from his glass of cold and calm brew.

 

❖      ❖      ❖      ❖

 

After the two—Mr. Sialis and Bartender Disgust—had calmed down and returned to their senses, Mr. Sialis explained the situation more elaborately to the bartender.

“Oh, so you decided to talk about his career as a lawyer over a drink, huh?” Bartender Disgust said to the young Officer Arfare as he nodded to Mr. Sialis.

“It was a one-sided, rash and irrational decision.” Officer Arfare stated. “I really should be escorting him back to his office and report back to the precinct promptly. But I decided to stick around just to finish my drink.”

“Is that so…?”

“But as soon as I finish my drink, you better be out of this bar and on your way to your office.” Officer Arfare demanded to Mr. Sialis, glaring at him as he spoke.

“……” Mr. Sialis paused for a moment to rethink and process what the young Officer just demanded him. “You have my word.” He answered.

However, Bartender Disgust looked at his good friend suspiciously as if he knew he was being too easy on giving in.

“So, where do we even begin…?” Mr. Sialis initiated.

“Hm. How about we start with…. Oh! how’s your day?” Bartender Disgust suggested.

“It was pretty stale.” Mr. Sialis answered. “I woke up early in the morning, and the rest of my day is wasted. Just like that.”

“And just whose fault do you that that is? hmMM?” Officer Arfare sarcastically asked.

“…” Mr. Sialis paused and looked away. He blankly just stared into the air, carefully thinking, processing, and contemplating upon his answer before responding. “It was yours. If you hadn’t hesitated to shoot that clear shot you had. I wouldn’t have had to force your hand to shoot your shot for you.”

“YOU SHOULD KNOW VERY WELL THAT I CAN’T JUST SHOOT A GUN WITHOUT THE ORDERS FROM MY SUPERIORS!” Officer Arfare angrily rebutted, almost shouting.

“Umm…. Uh, what’s the context here…?” Bartender Disgust asked.

“So, get this…”

Officer Arfare explained the situation that happened from this morning up until that evening. He was practically starting a vent session with the bartender, though, of course, with a friend like Mr. Sialis, and with a job where you have to serve alcohol to salarymen after their work hours, it wasn’t Mr. Disgust’s first hundred-thousand times or so to have to hear out those kinds of sorrows, problems, rants and or the most common vents from the customer.

“Oh, so he forced you, a police officer, to shoot your gun at the hostage?” Mr. Disgust thought out loud to clarify that they’re on the same page. “That’s pretty badass.”

“I know right?” Mr. Sialis affirmed.

“What.” Officer Arfare responded, speechless by the bartender’s reaction.

“It’s just that… it’s uncommon for a person to shoot the hostage taker in a hostage situation, given the risks and fear of it. you don’t have to hear me out since I’m self-aware that I may not make any sense sometimes, but it’s sort of a fresh new pace of catharsis to actually retaliate against the hostage taker, when the situation always feels like they’re the one’s who always get what they want.”

“Mhm, agreed.” Mr. Sialis nodded.

“That being said… it’s totally still your fault that you got detained for it, dude.” Bartender Disgust bluntly stated.

“Finally, that I can agree with.” Officer Arfare exclaimed.

“Hmph, I know that.” Mr. Sialis pouted, putting down his drink, sitting back and crossing his arms. “I’ve always acknowledged my fault. You should know that the best, Pensive Excalibur.”

“Hm? what is that supposed to mean?” Officer Arfare cluelessly asked. “Feeling better for yourself or feeling self-righteous even after admitting your fault— uh—”

Upon blabbering on about his rant, Officer Arfare noticed that the bartender hand given him an odd smile, as if he were expressing that he’ll explain in due time.

“Y’know, in my adolescence, my grandfather once told me that I shouldn’t wait for anyone else to tell me what to do if and when I’m dead set sure that it’s the right action to take after dropping all the sense of my personal self-righteousness.”

 “…isn’t that just a saying parents tell their children so that they’ll do their chores on their own without being told…?”

“Yes and no. He told me about it while I was waiting inside of a car in a parking lot. After buying what he needed at the store, he would shortly return soon, but at the moment, I was left in the car, pondering and wondering while staring out the window.” Mr. Sialis explained.

 

And that was when I saw a kitten in the middle of the road, trying to cross it with all these cars passing by. The passerby on the sidewalks—and including myself inside of the car—were anxious just watching the kitten get so close from getting runover by rubber tires with the width of the length of the entire kitten. People wanted to do something about it but didn’t. Some were too afraid to cross the r

 

And me, still being in the car, still waiting for my grandfather’s return, I didn’t do anything either but just…

 

 

“I see… so from all the police officers, you chose to force my hand because I reminded you of you when you were younger…?”

“No.” Mr. Sialis shot down the idea bluntly.

“Eh?”

“I’m pretty sure my self-righteousness just took over that time. Honestly, any cop at the scene would do. It’s just a mere coincidence that I happened to force your hand above all the other choices.”

“………”

Why am I so pissed off at that answer…? Officer Arfare’s raging thoughts inside. Why does it feel like my weapon was confiscated and my trust in the force had been decreased because of sheer bad luck.

Rising anger truly is a complex feeling if it’s translated into measuring temperature. On one end, Officer Arfare’s head is boiling from rage, he looks like he’s ready to bring hell to the surface, and on another end, he looks like he’s prepared to freeze Mr. Sialis to death.

Bartender Disgust—being crucial in contributing as an icebreaker—decided to change the topic smoothly in attempt to lighten up the mood a little.

“W-well, how about we talk about the past affairs you had of your career?” He then suggested.

“What is there to talk about?”

“Oh, you know. Don’t act like you don’t talk about it to me often.”

“Well, there’s a reason why I only talk to you about it so openly.”

Mr. Sialis shut down the idea as if there wasn’t anything in particular to talk about such topic. So, as he left the conversation in the dust of dead silence, he looked up to the hanging television beside the top shelves of which was displayed some expensive looking liquor.

The television displayed a Japanese animation presenting two characters. A young man and a young lady.

The young man is lying down on his back as he was held at knife-point by the lady.

[“Every time I think about you… it just makes me want to murder you even more.”] Said the young lady as she stabs the young man and walks away. Leaving the young man bleeding and dying on the floor ground.

[“…I love you too—”] he coarsely muttered with his last breath after coughing up the blood that swells up from his bleeding throat.

However, it wasn’t known whether or not the lady heard the young man’s voice. She might as well have heard it as the sounds of someone painfully coughing from a distance.

Without watching the entire film and without knowing its context, the scene just raises more questions than answers. However, to Mr. Sialis, even though he wears a nonchalant face—deep down, he somewhat felt some sentiment about the scene.

“Will you change the channel on the television up there?” Mr. Sialis asked the bartender. “It pains me to watch that cringy melodramatic program.”

“Why?” Bartender Disgust asked. One may assume the reason behind Mr. Sialis’s request is because he doesn’t do well with that kind of drama, or that he dislikes or at least finds it uninteresting—however, Bartender Disgust had a different assumption. “Does it remind you of a certain Serenus Canary?”

“…Am I that open of a book?” Mr. Sialis asked.

“No, as a matter of fact, that was just my wild shot in the dark. A lucky guess if you will.” Bartender Disgust stated, almost in a boastful manner.

“Geez, you know me so well.” Mr. Sialis jested. “Get blocked. Stalker.”

“Eh? But it’s kind of your fault for constantly venting your everyday life stories to me.” Bartender Disgust argued. “Go get a life or wife or something.”

“Hm? did I hear you say something?” Mr. Sialis glared. “Pensive Excalibur.”

“Nope, nothing. You must’ve heard things.” Bartender Disgust said, retracting his previous statement and changing the television channel just the way Mr. Sialis requested.

“Wait, wait, wait, did you mention Serenus Canary?” Officer Arfare asked in attempt to catch up on the same page as Mr. Sialis and Bartender Disgust’s banter.

“”…….?””

Mr. Sialis and Bartender Disgust locked eyes for a moment before they turned their attention to the vexed police officer whom apparently recognized a name from their conversation.

“Yeah, she’s a defense attorney I was once acquainted with. There’s a small chance you might’ve heard rumors about her, something along the headlines of murderer defense lawyer; An individual who keeps getting away with murder by winning the murder cases, claims, and allegations against her in court.”

“Hmm? Is that so…?” Officer Arfare asked, hovering his hand over his mouth as he tries to contain a yawn. “Well, I was told something slightly different.” He stated, looking a little too eager to explain his side of the story. “Serenus Canary is a prosecutor to be feared. He’s involved in too much murder cases he chose to prosecute for, which started floating rumors around about how he might’ve committed those murders himself, and that he only chose to prosecute for them to put the blame on someone else to get away with it. But alas, there’s no evidence or concrete proof for that claim. It’s only mere rumors, and Mr. Canary himself has always won those murder trials and cases fairly with conclusive evidence he himself gathered. And well… since he’s on our side, the police, then we’re not supposed to talk about the rumors revolving around him like this.”

Officer Arfare then concluded his story in silence as he slowly slips and rested his head on the table counter of the bar after finishing his glass of calm and cold brew. Leaving the lawyer and bartender to quietly process the profound police officer’s insight of and upon new information.

““…………””

“Still goes by the name Serenus, huh…? it sure as hell sounded like she fooled people.” Mr. Sialis thought out loud.

“A prosecutor, eh? That’s funny and Ironic.” Bartender Disgust thought out loud, laughing to himself a little. “The both of you practically switched teams since the first time you met her.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Mr. Sialis inquired further upon whatever Bartender Disgust found funny about what he just said.

“Hm? Didn’t you work with the police once…? Y’know, before you decided to defend and represent clients in court, you used to work hand-in-hand with the police force as a prosecuting attorney.”

“…” Mr. Sialis blankly stared into empty space once more as he contemplated, and reminisced back on things before he responded to Bartender Disgust’s explanation. “…yeah, I suppose I have.”

Mr. Sialis just sat there in silence as he indulged in his mysterious drink. On one portion of his mind he’s brooding about trivial things, overthinking as his other side of his mind contemplated about getting a refill for more of his favored beverage in the mug he was holding.

Bartender Chris Disgust left shortly to tend to other customers serving them drinks and light snacks to go along with it. All the while he listens in and eavesdrop on their stories.

And as for the young police officer whom joined them that night…. well, let’s just say that he decided to get a little shut eye as he rested his head on his crossed arms promptly placed on the table counter of the bar, leaning his whole upper body onto it like a student napping on their desk in the middle of class.

 

 

❖      ❖      ❖      ❖

 

 

The banter-filled silence of the peace in the Viking Woodpecker restroom was interrupted briefly by a certain news report broadcasted by the television. It didn’t particularly interest a lot of people, but among the people whose interest it piqued was none other than Mr. Sialis.

“Pensive Excalibur, turn up the television volume real quick.” Mr. Sialis requested to bartender Disgust.

“Hm…? sure.” Bartender Chris Disgust responded accordingly as he reached for the television remote and turned up the television volume as Mr. Sialis requested. “As long as it doesn’t disturb the customers….”

Though, just as he pays attention to what’s displayed on the screen hanging from the ceiling, he noticed that whatever was broadcasted on that television, apparently has caught the interest of his concerns.

The news channel that’s being broadcasted is displaying tragic news about Bartender Disgust and Mr. Sialis’s childhood.

The Gamsy and Blue’s Public Canteen.

A public canteen themed after certain cartoon characters, adored by children over twenty-five years ago.

As for what’s so concerning about the topic…..

[“The world is a dangerous place folks. Absolutely anything can happen. Death may occur Anytime, and particularly murder may be committed anywhere. That being said, a gruesome murder had just been reported coming from the Gamsy and Blue’s public canteen as it has been temporarily closed down, swarming with the police and their detectives with a warranted investigation as we speak.]

[“And here we have reporter Alexander Fearless live on the scene.”] The news anchor introduced, transitioning from their studio to the crime scene. [“Alex, aren’t you well aware that you could be murdered at any moment given from where you’re standing right now?”]

 

[“………”] Reporter Fearless waited patiently for the signal behind the camera just so that he can make sure that the news broadcast has completely transitioned and focused on him before talking. And during that short silence, he processed the question that the news anchor asked him….. [“Why would you ask me that?!”] he ranted a little loudly upon his realization. He clears his throat and continues to banter briefly before explaining the situation. [“Yes, without a doubt I am very well aware that it takes courage and confidence to stand and walk in these shady streets, but as this city is slowly losing faith in the police, we should still put our faith in them as they are doing their jobs to ensure our safety. Which is why—even if I’m scared out of my wits after a certain news anchor asked me a fearful question—I am still able to deliver this live news broadcast here in the crime scene today.”]

 

“Wait, did I hear that right…? Who knew that the place of our beloved childhood would turn out to be an old and musty murder crime scene?” Bartender Disgust thought out loud.

“…..”

[“Currently, the area is being swarmed by the police and their detectives as they…”]

All of the sudden, Reporter Fearless was interjected by someone whispering into his ear.

[“This just in, it turns out that the police has already found and caught a suspect. A young 19-year-old who goes by the name Frederick Astatine Finite.”] Reporter Fearless abruptly announced all of the sudden [“And I’ve managed to get a hold onto a professional witness. A detective if you will. Let’s hear what he has to say.”] Reporter Fearless introduced, shifting the focus to this ‘professional witness'. [“Detective Dent, what are your thoughts on the newly profound suspect you just caught?”] he asked who seemed to be the leading detective on the scene.

[“Well, if you ask me… I’m sure that I can confidently announce that we definitely got ‘em this time and that I can assure the safety of the local residents that they can sleep soundly without worry about another manslayer on the run.”] The detective responded. [Before we discovered the scene—as it’s current preserved state when we found it—an anonymous type sent us a piece of conclusive evidence that clearly incriminates the suspect we just warranted an arrest for. While we can’t display what the security cameras caught of the incident to your sensitive viewers, I can at least describe that what happened was dreadful. The suspect was wearing a paper mask of a mascot—seemingly the fox mascot of the establishment—and he also wore a pair of bunny ears on his head, which are items we later found in the possessions of Frederick Finite after arresting him. The victim followed him into the walk-in refrigerator, and they were talking as if they were good friends. It seemed that the suspect owned a rather small but sizeable bear-cub looking animal—which we haven’t been able to identified yet.”]

“Huh? A bear cub…? I didn’t even know there were bears around that area.”

“There aren’t. They merely described that it looked like a bear cub. It could’ve been something else like… a dog that looks like a bear perhaps?”

[“Through the security camera, we were able to hear the suspect assured the victim that he shouldn’t worry, because “It doesn’t bite.” and when the victim least expects it, the suspect commanded his pet to bite the arm of the victim, and just as he opened his mouth to scream in pain, the suspect chucked a white cloth rolled into a ball into his mouth, gagging him before he stabbed him in the neck to silent him for good, seemingly before it could disturb any customers on the other side of the door. That was when the suspect fled through another door, leaving the victim to sit and die for an hour or so before the manager found him and almost had a panic attack before calling us. The victim died from suffocation, not just because he already had difficulty breathing after having a cloth chucked into his mouth and almost down his throat, but also because he choked in his own blood after being stabbed in the neck.”]

[“Were there any words from the suspect you caught before you arrested him?”]

[“Well, naturally, he said that he didn’t do it. We already informed the families of both the victim and the suspect, and if they’re watching this broadcast right now, I would like to wish them my sincerest condolences.”]

[“This next question might be a stretch, but do you think this incident will effect this establishment’s business after over twenty years of service?”]

The detective paused for a moment and furrowed his eyebrows, processing the reporter’s question.

[“That’s not a question for me to answer that’s for sure.”] Detective Dent carefully answered with doubts in his mind. [“…but”]

[“but…?”]

[“After we’re done with the investigation, perhaps they might need to find new management for the public canteen for the time being. After all, the suspect is the son of the manager—Mr. Finite.”]

[“Interesting…! And yet… incredibly tragic.”]

[“Indeed, let’s respectfully not discuss any further.”]

[“And there you have it folks. This is reporter fearless, back to you.”] Reporter fearless transitioned back to the news anchors live in the studio.

 

[“Hm… Gamsy and Blue, huh? That takes me back a little”] the news anchor commented.

[“Yeah, well, if this incident doesn’t shut down the public canteen, then I’m sure that the entire modern cartoon franchise will.”]

[“And what is that supposed to mean?”]

[“I meant that the mascots of the public canteen are way outdated. Cartoons nowadays are making new franchises and new modern art styles and animation that appease to the younger audiences nowadays. I should know, I have a daughter who loves watching cartoons, and the last time she watched Gamsy and Blue, their art style changed to something that looks completely plastic.”]

[“Yeah.. and I suppose I have heard that the franchise is tackling the restaurants and pizza parlor kinds of food industries—“]

 

The news anchors then began to discuss about the future of the modern Gamsy and Blue franchise, but they lost the interest of their viewers—particularly Mr. Sialis and Bartender Disgust—after they finished talking about the man slaughter incident that occurred in the public canteen.

Mr. Sialis finished his drink and proceeded to place his empty mug on the table counter of the bar before he stood up from the chair he sat from. He then talked to bartender Disgust on his way to the exit of the Viking Wood Pecker Restroom.

“It’s a little too early too late to visit the crime scene at this time, but I’ll call it a night today and swing by the public canteen tomorrow.”

“I’ll close up the shop and go with you tomorrow.” Bartender Disgust insisted.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, and besides, I only do this bartender thing as a hobby after you suggested such career to me. I make more money off of online advertisement revenue anyways. It should be fiiine. Our childhood’s on the line here, and if it falls I want to be there to watch it fall.”

“Pfft- alright then.” Mr. Sialis affirmed, holding himself back from laughing a little. “Good night, Pensive Excalibur.”

“…”

“…”

“…Wait! what about your cop friend over here by the table?”

“He’s not my friend, but he’ll be fine. If he wakes up, just send him back to the precinct before you close up the shop will ya?”

“Geez, he’s slumbering like a rock.”

“Well yeah, it’s like you slipped a narcotic in his drink.”

“A narcotic…? Wait, are you saying I drugged a police officer?!”

“I said it was like you slipped a narcotic in his drink, when really, all you served him was a nice, cold and calming glass of chamomile milk tea. And I’m pretty sure tea consists of a harmless component called theanine or something like that. It’s nowhere near to what a narcotic could do, let alone an excessive dose of it.” Mr. Sialis explained. “All you did was calm his nerves down a little with the drink, and considering how he passed out like that, probably meant that he’s been stressed or exhausted for the longest time to begin with.”

“I see… I suppose that’s good to know. I wish I could’ve known sooner though.” Bartender thought out loud. “Well, G’night then.”

Mr. Sialis then raised his right hand above his shoulder, gesturing a short “bye.” or “See you around.” Before he exited the Viking Wood Pecker Restroom bar.

 

❖      ❖      ❖      ❖

 

Mr. Sialis is currently about 15 minutes away from the Viking wood pecker restroom pub as he’s on his way to his office.

He was in an empty road, no cars and barely any passersby.

Mr. Sialis pulled out his phone and contacted his law firm… but to no avail, he called but no one picked up and answered. Instead, he left a text message explaining his request on taking the case down at the Gamsy and Blue’s public canteen to defend the defendant, Frederick Finite. He also sent them his plans on investigating the scene and talking to the defendant the next day.

Though, as he was just putting his phone back in his pocket, he gets the strange uncomfortable sense as if he were being pursued or watched from a distance.

Mr. Sialis then reacted accordingly by pulling out a small notebook from his coat. He reviewed the contents of the small notebook before pulling out an ink ball-point pen to start writing down more entries.

That was when two strange individuals approached him.

[Two men walked and stopped in their tracks right in front of me] Mr. Sialis silently wrote down on his little notebook. [both are wearing white-long sleeved dress shirts… I find it peculiar that they didn’t consider wearing their coats, walking around the streets in the middle of a cold night. Did they really think I wouldn’t recognize them just because they removed their coats…?

It seems that my pursuers finally decided to show themselves, however, I still can’t help but feel like there’s third presence from behind me… or perhaps it’s just that I feel uncomfortable after leaving my rear side vulnerable, when there’s a potential problem in front of m—]

One of the strangers in front of Mr. Sialis snatched his notebook away, interrupting him from writing.

The man snatched Mr. Sialis’s notebook away then proceeded to toss it across the street.

And Mr. Sialis, just having his notebook being taken away from him, he just stood there, being left a little disoriented by the situation he’s in and the next situation he’s about to face.

Mr. Sialis put the cap of his ball-point pen back on and made sure that his pen was sealed and locked tightly with the sound of a click before he set aside the ball-point pen back in his pocket.

“Were you the one who got our friend arrested?” One of the strangers asked Mr. Sialis.

“I’m not a cop.” Mr. Sialis stated. “I don’t get people arrested. You must’ve gotten the wrong guy, or else you’re gonna have to specify a little more clearly—”

“You forced a cop’s hand to shoot a hostage taker this morning, didn’t you?” One of the strangers asked. “Now, tell us, are you or are you not the lawyer who got our friend in trouble?”

“…”

“…”

“I can assure you that no such lawyer got your friend arrested this morning.”

And besides, if they persist in knowing they got the right guy, why ask him to confirm?

“Bullshit!” The man exclaimed, throwing a right hook towards Mr. Sialis.

Mr. Sialis instinctively reacted by raising the both of his arms to shoulder-length clenching his fists, holding them and angling them to his left side, blocking the man’s right-hook punch.

However, there was a move that Mr. Sialis couldn’t quite avoid or prepare for.

There were two strangers, one had just landed a right hook on him which he successfully blocked—however, the other stranger couldn’t just stand there and watch. The other stranger threw a kick, hitting Mr. Sialis in his lower torso, knocking him back a little.

Despite inflicting damage and still feeling a lingering pain being left and bruised on his stomach, Mr. Sialis stood in place and didn’t change his stance. However, he was going to need a quick change of plans if he’s going to have to fight the both of his strange pursuers at once.

Mr. Sialis spoke, but his voice sounded a little coarse and scuffed, as if he needed to catch his breath after recovering from immense pain.

They’re strong, I’ll admit that.

“I’m tellin’ ya, if that hostage taker was your friend, then I’m sure that no lawyer got him arrested.” Mr, Sialis explained. “I should know, I was there.”

“Liar!” One of the strange pursuers exclaimed as the both of them charged at Mr. Sialis.

Mr. Sialis then kneeled on his right knee, wrapping his left arm on his lunging left leg while ducking and protecting his head with his right arm covering it.

 While on the ground, his two strange pursuers began kicking him down consecutively. And Mr. Sialis, while being kicked down from both sides, continued talking.

“Other than the police, no one else got him arrested.” Mr. Sialis pleaded. “No one, no one was to blame, no one other than himself…!”

Mr. Sialis endured through those kicks until he felt numb of it. The kicks his strange pursuer were throwing started feeling like mere beats and rhythms to him now.

Every movement has to have some sort of rhythm or pattern to it. Like a heart beating to keep pumping the blood flow, like a bird flapping its wings up and down to keep it a float, flying and soaring through the air. In this case, in order for the strange pursuers to throw a kick, they need to draw back their leg backwards to build up the force and to swing their leg to hit the object they’re kicking. It’s just like throwing a punch or chucking a baseball where one has to draw back their arm to throw.

Mr. Sialis had been keenly observing the right moment to act, the moment at least one of his strange pursuers begins to draw back their leg. He first identified the pattern and barrage of kicks he’s receiving from his right side.

The moment the strange pursuer started drawing his left leg back to throw another kick, Mr. Sialis got a hold of his right leg, pulling and twisting it, briefly and simultaneously, making the strange pursuer lose his balance and fall over. But of course, Mr. Sialis couldn’t have done that without sacrificing his more vulnerable left side of which he had to endure many consecutive hits from.

Mr. Sialis endured and stood right back up, quickly putting his right foot over the strange pursuer who fell over. Though, as he did that, the pursuer on his left switched his attacks from consecutively kicking to consecutively punching. Acknowledging that, Mr. Sialis twisted his waist a little to face him. Mr. Sialis raised his arms once again to block his punches, and as soon as he felt a punch land on his wrist, he decided to counter with a right hook of his own.

The right-hook Mr. Sialis threw landed a direct hit to the left temple of his opponent. The strange pursuer he punched was incredibly hard-headed that it felt like Mr. Sialis punched a brick wall. However, to the strange pursuer who received the hit from Mr. Sialis, he felt like he had been hit by a brick block to the head.

Mr. Sialis’s punch did just the trick to befuddle his opponent for the mean time, which was enough time for Mr. Sialis to stomp his right foot on the man who fell over, breaking a bone or two, and using that same foot to kick the befuddled pursuer on his shin, forcing him to fall over as well, rolling on the ground, shedding tears in pain as he embraces his painful leg.

““ARGHHH!!!”” The two strange pursuers cried in pain.

Mr. Sialis successfully unarmed and injured his two strange pursuers while sustaining a few or several bruises on his body. However, he wasn’t quite finished just yet.

Whatever Mr. Sialis feared about a few moments ago became a reality. He had been anxious that his back side is vulnerable, and that anxiety became fully realized when he immediately recognized and identified what felt like the feeling of having a gun being pointed at blank-point range at the back of his head.

“Put your hands in the air!” his assailant demanded.

And Mr. Sialis did just as his assailant ordered him to do.

He raised the both of his arms where his assailant can clearly see the both of them.

Put my hands in the air? Mr. Sialis thought. “Are you a cop?” He asked out loud.

“No, I’m with them you bastard!!” His assailant yelled, enraged, he threw a kick at Mr. Sialis’s lower back.

Though, Mr. Sialis took that hit to the back quite sturdily as he didn’t flinch nor move and inch from where he was initially standing.

This man first is poking a gun to the back of my head, he then proceeds to tell me to raise the both of my arms, and then he kicks me.

His kick was so weak in comparison of the barrage of hits I had to endure earlier, I didn’t feel a thing, or perhaps it’s just that I’ve grown numb of it.

Regardless, this man doesn’t seem to be the brightest of the bunch.

He said that he was with ‘them’. He must’ve been referring to the two stooges Mr. Sialis had beaten up.

Mr. Sialis—while holding the both of his hands up—reached for the gun right behind his head with the both of his hands.

With his left arm, he pushed the gun to point to the right, and with his right arm, he caught the gun point and pulled it to have to gun’s direction be pointed away from his head.

Immediately after he succeeded, The assailant pulled the trigger of the gun, reacting a little too late as the gun would have grazed a few inches above Mr. Sialis’s shoulder. Mr. Sialis even heard the gun click in response to the assailant pulling the trigger—however, no loud boom or bang was heard that silent night as the gun didn’t even shoot a single bullet.

Well… I already knew that his guy is pretty dumb, but… hm? It feels like he’s still got a good grip on the gun. He just refuses to let go after he failed! Mr. Sialis thought after tugging the gun.

“Well, in that case…”

Mr. Sialis tugged his assailant’s gun, pulling him closer than just arms length. And with that being done, Mr. Sialis grabbed his assailant’s arm with the both of his hands behind him. He hunched over and bent his knees a little. He then began to carry his assailant over his right shoulder right before a loud thud was heard as he threw his assailant into the ground.

“Gah—! …Ack!”

The assailant opened his mouth to scream as he haven’t a clue as for what just happened to him. At one point he felt like he was as light as a feather, his hair standing on his end as he feared of being lifted off of the ground. And in the next moment, he felt immense back pain and as if he hit his head on the ground a little. The person he was just threatening is now standing tall before him… however, upside down in his view.

And instead of a scream or shout, the assailant found himself gasping for air.

Mr. Sialis, while still holding onto his arm, he snatched his assailant’s gun as soon as he noticed that his grip on it started slipping and loosening, leaving the assailant’s hands empty and trembling.

Mr. Sialis then chucked the assailant’s gun down the sewer drains by the street’s sidewalk.

He then removed his coat and blanketed it over the assailant’s face, completely engulfing his line of vision in darkness. And naturally, the assailant reacted accordingly by struggling, though, Mr. Sialis had a solution to that as well.

Mr. Sialis pulled out a stapler from his pocket and poked the end of it presumably where his assailant’s forehead is supposed to be under Mr. Sialis’s coat.

“Oi, quit moving around.” Mr. Sialis threatened his assailant.

“…”

And his assailant followed obediently, as he didn’t speak a word and didn’t move a muscle.

Mr. Sialis let out a hefty sigh.

After the assailant had his gun taken away from him, he was under the impression that Mr. Sialis is currently using that same firearm against him as he was pointing the object at point-blank range, poking on his forehead.

“You wouldn’t dare!!” The assailant cried out, stuttering a little in his breath.

“Hoh? You think so? Hmph.” Mr. Sialis provoked and pouted.

Mr. Sialis uncloaked his assailant. He grabbed him from behind by his collar, making him sit up straight all the while he was pointing the stapler at the back of his head.

“Look at your two friends over there.” Mr. Sialis said, making his assailant face the two injured men on the ground. “All given and beaten up. Leaving their vulnerable bodies on the ground.”

“Nngh…!”

“Boss… Help us…!” one of the strange pursuers on the ground cried exclaimed, looking at the assailant with a miserable tearful expression on his face.

“For now, let’s call those two… Leg and Rib. After all, it’s only accurate. Rib over there has a broken rib or two after I stomped on his chest with my right leg, and Leg on the other hand… well, let’s just say that he might need more than two weeks to recover before he can barely walk again. Leg is in tears, rolling on the ground and crying out for your help while embracing his painful leg. And rib on the other hand has grown completely silent, as he’s given up, knowing that his attempts to get up will only be futile as it may only cause him more pain and potentially worsen his injury.”

Every word that muttered from Mr. Sialis’s mouth only angered the threatened assailant, however, he couldn’t do anything with that anger but grit his teeth and listen to him in frustration.

“And then there’s the reason why you lot are after me.” Mr. Sialis added. “Let’s call him… Gun. Of course, it’s an abbreviation of Ian Gun-chron, but it’s also because I happened to force a police officer’s hand to shoot a gun at them. And judging by how far you’re willing to go for him, it seems that your little bunch of a social group is pretty close to him.”

“…”

“Were you really going to avenge him by resorting to violence towards me…? or perhaps you heard about my reputation as a lawyer and wanted to take advantage of that.”

“…”

All of the sudden, the apprehended assailant shut his mouth silent, shaking his head a little from struggling.

“Oh? Not answering, are you?” Mr. Sialis dauntlessly asked. He seems to be quick in forgetting that he’s currently being held at “gun” point.

Mr. Sialis poked his stapler, shoving it at the back of his assailant’s head. He then moved his face closer to his ear and whispered.

“After all that I’ve just told you, do you still really think I won’t pull the trigger…?”

“Fine! You win!! You’re right! You’re absolutely ri—”

Click…! Bang! …Thud!

“…”

“…”

“Boss…!!!”

Immediately upon the assailant’s confession, Mr. Sialis pressed the stapler together, acting as if he’s pulling a gun’s trigger, then he drew back his arm and threw a smack at the back of his assailant’s head, using the blunt end of the stapler and knocking him out.

That shouldn’t kill him. At the very least, it should give him a mild concussion.

“A….. wait, which part was I right about…?” Mr. Sialis quietly muttered to himself, almost regretting to knock his assailant out unconscious before he could explain any further.

Well, whatever, that’s that. At the very least, I got him to confess.

Mr. Sialis pulled out a voice recorder from his left pocket, switching it off, as it had been on recording the entire time from the start of his pursuer’s approach to the end.

Mr. Sialis then searched the body of his unconscious assailant.

“O-oi! What do you think you’re doing?!” The leg-injured pursuer called out.

“Nothing personal.” Mr. Sialis ignorantly replied.

…

Wait, a minute…

Upon his realization, Mr. Sialis paid more attention to the leg-injured pursuer, glaring at him with an almost sinister grin plastered on his face.

“Tell me which part I was right about.” He demanded, using the same trick and same stapler to threaten his pursuer with to get some answers.

Apparently, it wasn’t too long of a story to tell nor was it too long of an explanation to elaborate on.

The three men who pursued and attempted to assail Mr. Sialis that day were partners with the recently arrested hostage taker, Ian Gunchron. The three of them were programmers whom worked under the same company, however they lost their jobs and couldn’t find or get into any more line of work, so they turned to Mr. Gunchron, a lawyer who hasn’t lost his job yet, and just wanted to help his friends out. The leg-injured pursuer exaggerated a little about how difficult their struggles were, however, it only seemed to make sense and apparent that the result of it has costed Mr. Gunchron to be desperate enough to resort to hostage taking and ransom.

“Ian has helped us out so much, and even went so far as to sacrifice his dignity to commit a crime.” The leg injured assailant added. “We just thought that we could do the same.”

Mr. Sialis was right about the fact that they wanted to take advantage of his occupation as a lawyer to get him out of prison.

“What kind of friends goes so far and desperate to force the same person that shot him, to defend him in court? Sigh… Have you forgotten that Mr. Gunchron is also a lawyer himself…? I’m sure he’ll be fine either way if he defended himself in court. If he wins the case, you’ll all be happy, but if he loses, well, he deserved it.”

After Mr. Sialis was finished with the leg-injured assailant, he knocked him out as well.

“Now then…”

Mr. Sialis pulled out the smartphone he had snatched from the pockets of his unconscious assailant.

It’s locked and protected with a four digit-pin code password, though, it’s not like I needed to open it to make an emergency call anyway. It’s been decades since smartphones have implemented the feature of an emergency dial anyone can access without having to unlock it.

Mr. Sialis then tapped away on the smartphone screen, phoning a certain police department he’s very well familiar of.

He then held the phone up to his ear ass the phone started contacting.

[“Eh? Who’s this? Is this an emergency?”]

The reception is terrible and unwelcoming as usual. Mr. Sialis thought to himself.

“Clean up on aisle 5.” Mr. Sialis sarcastically responded with.

[“What is this shit?! I’m hanging up.”]

“Hold on, I jest. I seriously need you to pick up a few scum on the street.”

[“Alright, now we’re talking. Give me a second…”] The officer on the other end responded a little more enthusiastically. [“Come to think of it, you sound familiar…”]

Mr. Sialis paused for a bit as he looks into the distance of the road to find the address of the street he’s on.

“The address is 16^th Avenue, Gavel Street. It should be nearby the viking wood pecker restroom pub.” Mr. Sialis added, promptly dropping the phone on the unconscious assailant afterwards.

He then walked away from the body as he approached, picked up, and dusted off his tattered little notebook before he left the scene.

 

❖      ❖      ❖      ❖

 

About ten minutes away from the scene, Mr. Sialis began to contemplate as he walked on his way back to his office.

The streets are still empty. It should be understandable since it’s midnight, however, Mr. Sialis didn’t really expect the streets to be this barren and silent regardless of the time.

Mr. Sialis expected people coming home late after work, or perhaps drunk passersby whom are at least accompanied by a not drunk friend to assist them. He also somewhat expected to hear the television volume of those who are watching late night shows, loud enough to even be heard in the streets, but not even that was heard that night.

It’s been decades since it wasn’t necessary for people to work from home anymore, and yet, I suppose that became ideal for many all of the sudden due to the rise of increasing number introverts.

Eventually, some offices started deeming to be unnecessary to the point where they’re replacing those work spaces with manufacturing machines, making a factory work more efficiently in producing products than to hold meetings.

When Mr. Sialis was in his adolescence, it was law that everyone is forced to stay at home, so he didn’t really get out often, and the adults around him were forced to work at home as well. Though, eventually that law has been lifted. People didn’t have to work from home anymore, but companies decided changing their minds all of the sudden, thinking why go through all the trouble of wasting time to travel, when it’s more convenient to work from home. The risk of danger is always higher outside after all, and no matter what, people will always arrive late.

In the present day, programming has been the most popular occupation to have. They even dedicated an entire city for it, and yet that city has become the least populated since it only focused in manufacturing the future in general—Technology, entertainment, designing and convenience—and that those workers and manufacturers preferred to have their line of work in the comfort of their own homes.

Eventually, this kind of solitude turned more and more people into introverts. And it also turned more and more people into anxiety.

Perhaps the reason why the streets were so silent that night is because no one went outside in the first place, and that they were anxious about being heard, so they installed sound-proof walls… though that might be a far-fetched explanation.

“So, this is the future, huh?” Mr. Sialis muttered to himself. “Who would have thought.”

General programming has been the number one occupation to have as far as Mr. Sialis is aware of at his country. However, he can’t help but think back on the three strange pursuers he beaten up recently. They said they were programmers, he’s even snatched a business card from his assailant—whom, apparently is named Cushion, Connor—to confirm that and yet… they claimed to have lost their jobs and became desperate.

Mr. Sialis graduated highschool being advised to pursue a career in programming and designing for the money. However, it wasn’t something that particularly interested him.

He was practically the stick in the mud as it was everyone’s ambition to become a programmer at the time.

Perhaps there’s too much programmers in the world that Mr. Sialis could hardly ever fathom. It makes it only inevitable that there would be a few strays like the bunch of strange pursuers who lost their job in the industry.

Back then, Mr. Sialis figured to choose a career to choose a job that he perceives that the world won’t have too much of in the future.

But as he finally achieved that, he began to ask the age-old question… Am I happy? Is this what I wanted?

He scoffed at the unusual rates of introverts, but he once ambitioned to become a stay-at-home husband himself. He ambitioned when he was a child, wanting to grow up into an adult.

In the present day, he’s a middle-aged man.

“And look at me now…” He muttered, sighing.

Mr. Sialis continued walking as he contemplated.

And in his disappointing and depressing contemplations, he found himself raising his left hand, up to above the height of his shoulders.

And like a lightning of adrenaline coursing through his left arm as if it were storing and charging energy for a powerful strike—Mr. Sialis impulsively slapped himself across the face, disorienting him from the street he was walking in the middle of, and leading himself into a filthy alleyway where he found himself leaning against the wall, shifting his bodyweight downwards until he sat down slouching on the ground, sitting beside an odorous dumpster.

The crummy odor of spoiled foods, liquids, and rotten garbage filled Mr. Sialis’s nostrils and yet he didn’t flinch from how horrible it smelled. Instead, he accepted where he was and decided to rest for a while in the worst smelling place possible.

I wonder how things would’ve turned out if I hadn’t left Officer Arfare back at the pub.

Mr. Sialis has a knack for pushing people away.

If Officer Arfare had gone with him, he wouldn’t have to deal with the strange pursuers and assailants. In the first place, he was being pursued and assailed because his pursuers and assailants found him alone, without the police officer in sight to escort him.

Mr. Sialis began to giggle to himself a little.

“Why do I feel like a pile of shit all of the sudden.” He thought out loud with a faint grin plastered on his face.

Mr. Sialis just sat there. He sat there for a minute.

Time passed.

One minute turned into two, and eventually two minutes multiplied into five.

Mr. Sialis sat by the foul-smelling dumpster for half an hour… or at least, that’s how time felt like to him then.

After a while, Mr. Sialis felt that his own smartphone started ringing. And he responded accordingly as he pulled out the smartphone to answer the call.

Mr. Sialis held his phone up to his ear and he heard a woman’s voice.

[“You’re taking the case down at that crummy public canteen.”]

“You mean Gamsy and Blue’s…?” Mr. Sialis replied.

[“Games and bro’s, whatever it’s called. You’re taking that case and that’s an order as your supervisor.”]

“An order…? Pff- give me a break, I asked for your permission to take that case in the first place. On a side note, what kind of supervisor calls their subordinate in the middle of the night to respond to their text message?”

[“HmM? Well, aren’t you up right now to answer it?”]

“Yeah, but that’s not the point. What if I wasn’t up tonight, what would you have done if I wasn’t able to answer.”

[“I would’ve left a message like you did when I wasn’t able to answer your call. But why give a shit about that when we’re already discussing what needs to be discussed right now. You’re a lawyer, you should act and think like one.”]

Bleep…!

She hung up.

“She almost sounded like she wanted to murder me.” Mr. Sialis thought out loud upon the abrupt conversation with his supervisor. “Maybe I should marry her.”

Right, I forgot. Rather than contemplating and depressing about the past and how people perceived the future of today, Mr. Sialis remembered that there’s had always been a bigger fish to fry. Something that concerns him in the present rather than the past or the inevitable future he has yet to face.

The past is past, and if there will be problems in the future, he’ll deal with them when he gets there.

Mr. Sialis stood up from the filthy alleyway he rested on, dusting off his pants, lap, and adjusting his hat.

I wonder what time it is…

Not long after, he began hearing footsteps running at a moderate jogging speed. He started hearing someone panting, breathing as if they’re exhausted after a long work out. Then it was followed by a loud whistle.

Mr. Sialis turned to where he heard the whistle, only to be greeted by a certain Police Officer Arfare, whom seemed to be exasperated and out of breath after searching for the man he’s supposed to escort this entire time.

“Took you long enough.” Mr. Sialis said.

“You’ve… got a lot of nerve…!” Officer Arfare scolded while catching his breath.

 

Officer Arfare was woken up by Bartender Disgust as he was about to close down the shop for the day. He was even so kind enough to hitch him a ride and drop him off anywhere, however, Officer Arfare’s biggest concern at the time was the safety of Mr. Sialis. And so, the law enforcer took up the bartender’s offer, and he drove him to his office, only to find that the lawyer in question wasn’t there yet.

After a while, Officer Arfare was informed by the precinct that an anonymous tip had requested to pick some thugs off of the address on the 16^th Avenue, Gavel Street, near some pub called the Viking Wood Pecker Restroom. And Officer Arfare, just coming from there, and is already ways apart from the pub, he was going to decline the order up until they mentioned that the anonymous tip sounded like Mr. Sialis.

“Wait, what? Really? Alright, I’ll head over there.”

After arresting three thugs, whom he identified as the following Mr. Burrow Ken, Mr. Splint Shin, and Mr. Cushion Connor. All three have clear criminal records up until now, and it seemed that someone left an audio tape recorder as confessions of the crime they committed.

However, no Mr. Sialis in sight.

Officer Arfare didn’t give up, and he kept searching and searching for a few hours, he even checked back on his office again only to find that he’s still not back.

And finally, he found a shady man standing out from a filthy alleyway. He stood tall, wearing a dark tattered coat and a hat similar to a Stetson’s.

In the end, Officer Arfare was able to escort Mr. Sialis back to his office safely, giving him an entire lecture in attempt to discipline him before reporting back to the precinct. Of course, his superiors were mad at him for being late, but they were willing to let him off easy since he was honest enough to tell the entire story and because he was able to take care of the three thugs on the street without the gun. They even offered him his firearm back, however, he declined due to unspoken reasons.