184 Targets

  "We better get ready to move," the prior conversation ended, Staxius stood outside with Cake. The shop was closed, time was now three in the morning, it was nearly an all-nighter. Dressed with a white shirt and torn jeans, the duo made their way towards the hoodlum district.

  "Sure is lively," Staxius voiced, people were still at it with the late-night celebrations. No reply came from Cake, she followed behind and kept a close watch. Adete rested atop his head, the hair felt more comfortable than before.

  "Ay, who might ya be?" a familiar voice spoke, the man worked to keep people's drink filled. Most had flushed faces – nothing out of the ordinary.

  "Hello, Timothy," he approached the bar and spoke monotonously.

  "I recognize that tattoo," he referred to the symbol underneath the eye, "-you sure have changed, friend," with a smirk, he knew what to do. Accompanied by Cake behind, the bartender could not but help them towards the toilet.