Chapter III: The Stranger

As a different, almost oppressive type of music resonated through the establishment, Gino's figure stood out in the dim lighting of the bar, drawing strange and even hurried glances from many patrons. His physical prowess was obvious, but his outfit—or rather, the lack of one—made many fear that yet another nutter had slipped through the crowd to ruin the brief respite they found in their daily grind.

"What d'you want, lad?" the bartender asked in a friendly, but commanding voice, raising his tone above the music.

Clearing his throat, Gino approached the wide bar, lowering his height slightly while trying to sound as normal as possible. "Good evening, I was wondering if you could help me for a moment. I'm new around here and was hoping for some directions."

Though he had rehearsed his opening line several times, Gino sighed inwardly, thinking his words had been okay.

However, the bartender's face immediately turned into one of bewilderment as he exclaimed, "Bloody hell, mate! What's with that horrible accent? What kind of trash planet are you from?" The man was no stranger to different dialects and accents from the many worlds of the Imperium, but it was the first time he'd heard one so appalling and difficult to discern.

Slightly taken aback, Gino felt a flicker of confusion before asking, "You can understand me, right?" Inwardly, he wondered, 'What the hell is he on about with my accent? I'm speaking just like I always have…'

The bartender, leaning in closer to hear Gino more clearly, replied with a hint of annoyance, "It's easier to understand a bloody Tech-Priest than you, lad. By the Throne, this is the first time I've struggled to understand someone. But yeah, I think I get what you're saying." The man looked Gino up and down before asking, "Judging by the way you look, it's clear you're not from around here. Have you been robbed, or what?" His gaze lingered, puzzled, on Gino's shorts.

Not paying attention to the bartender's inner conflict as he wondered if Gino's clothes were made from his bin bags, Gino replied more slowly while nodding, "That's right… I just arrived on the planet and woke up in an alley with no clothes or anything. I was hoping you could tell me where I might find a place to stay for the night and somewhere I could earn some money to get settled."

The bartender smirked slightly and chuckled, making Gino repeat his words twice before shaking his head. "You shouldn't leave your home planet if you're that green, lad. But alright. If you've got the credits to pay, I can point you towards an inn that's not too pricey. And if you're looking for work…" The man paused, scrutinising Gino once more.

"Look, I don't know what skills you've got, but you can ask around here at the bar if anyone needs a hand, though I doubt it—you don't have any implants that might be useful," the man replied frankly, as Gino clenched his jaw and nodded with seriousness and concern.

Noticing Gino's mood, the bartender showed no reaction and continued with his work, leaving Gino to sit by himself.

The bartender gestured to some other brawny individuals, who nodded and stayed in place.

'What the hell can I do? I've got no skills that can earn me any money…' Meanwhile, Gino was adrift in thought, resisting the urge to bite his nails nervously while his eyes scanned the bar.

He noticed several eyes watching him as well.

"Look, kid, I get that your situation is shite, but if you're not buying a drink, you can piss off out of my bar. You're scaring off the customers with that look of yours. If you're around here, I might call you if I need some help or something," the bartender said firmly, extending his hand to show Gino the way out.

"But if you're that desperate, you could take the alley to the right as you leave the bar. Follow it until you reach some steps and head down to the next level. They might have something for you there, if you're willing," the man finished as Gino let out a sigh, nodded, and headed for the door.

"Tell 'em Ricciardo sent you," the bartender shouted as two burly men escorted him out.

'Judging by his looks, he seemed like the son of some noble or merchant. Hehe, let's hope the lads at the guild know how to make the most of fresh, high-quality meat like that,' Ricciardo thought to himself as he continued his work. Gino's appearance was quite striking compared to the usual patrons of his bar and the hive city residents. His unblemished and healthy skin, as well as his strong physique, spoke of a life of comfort, free from the daily torture to which everyone in the Imperium was subjected.

Someone so naive and foolish was practically begging to be taken advantage of in Vandalor. And while Ricciardo wasn't in a position to do so himself, nor did he need to, he had no qualms about sending him to his associates to take advantage of Gino, boosting his standing with them.

After all, maintaining his bar in its current position wasn't easy for Ricciardo and required many connections to make it happen.

Unaware of where he was headed or the dangers that might await, Gino tried to follow Ricciardo's directions, cautiously observing his surroundings. The alley was darker than the boulevard he had previously been on, and unlike the empty streets he had initially walked, there were several figures in the shadows of the alley, watching him intently as he made his way through.

Trying not to let the oppressive and gloomy atmosphere affect his stride, Gino headed towards the first set of stairs he could see. The constant sound of machinery and the echoes of the city made him look around several times to ensure no one was following him.

Making his way to the stairs, Gino locked eyes with an individual leaning against the wall in the narrow space, saying nothing but feeling a twinge of fear in his heart. He descended the steps, noticing a strong smell of urine mixed with thick smoke.

The steps, illuminated by a cold, bluish light, were lined with people lying in various states—some unconscious, others sleeping, some with vacant stares, and a few watching Gino's passage with indifference.

Swallowing slowly, he noticed many were missing limbs. The arms, hands, feet, and necks not covered by ragged clothes showed a purple and almost black hue.

Pausing briefly on a step, Gino made a great effort not to show his horror when he noticed the face of a man lying there who didn't seem alive, missing his entire lower jaw, with necrotic tissue eating away at his face.

'Fuck his mother, that bastard bartender sent me to my death. These stairs are full of junkies and vagrants, for God's sake.' Cursing Ricciardo, Gino continued down, a heavy feeling gripping his chest and squeezing his heart.

The stairs seemed almost endless until Gino finally pushed his way through the hundreds of abandoned individuals and entered another alley that led to narrower streets, more active than the previous level.

The damp ground was covered in mould and filth, while an orange light bathed everything around. People in lower-quality clothes than those on the level above hurried along, each one looking at the others with distrust. Hooded figures and shady characters were scattered all over the narrow street, and the low-hanging sky made the area feel even more claustrophobic.

The noise was greater but more hushed. Shops were open on both sides of the narrow path.

'The fat bartender sent me here, but he didn't mention any specific shop… judging by how many are open, I suppose I have to ask around at each one of them.' Gino's eyes began to focus on each open shop. Most were food places, but the rest seemed to be scrap and recycling shops.

Carefully making his way, Gino inspected each shop, quickly noticing something important. 'The shops and businesses have, at best, three workers... and the transactions aren't done with money, but exchanges...' Frowning with worry, Gino saw the same pattern repeat throughout the area.

Bits of metal, products Gino had no idea about, or even food and drink—all seemed to be exchanged. The transactions, though conducted in plain sight, were treated with a degree of secrecy. And the curious gaze of Gino was met with hostile looks from those who noticed, forcing him to avoid staring at any one place for too long.

THUD

Suddenly, Gino bumped into someone, stepping back and turning his eyes to see who he had collided with, only to find three figures in his path, all hooded and with implants in different parts of their bodies.

"Where are you off to, lanky? What's got you so interested around here, eh?" A threatening voice cut through the noise, making Gino focus on the man. He was tall, maybe around six foot three, and looked well-fed and strong, something rare in all Gino had seen so far in this hive city.

He had one blue eye, the other a green bionic implant that made his stare fierce and cold. Although Gino couldn't see his hand as his torso was covered by a cloak, he glimpsed that it seemed to rest on his hip. 'He must have a weapon,' Gino quickly assessed.

"Sorry for not seeing you. I was looking for a place where they might need some help." Responding cautiously and speaking slowly to be understood, Gino looked directly at the man before him.

"What the hell?"

"Listen to this idiot talk, haha."

"Can't you speak properly, you lanky git?" The three men reacted almost instantly to the sound of Gino's voice, their eyes narrowing as they looked him up and down.

Stepping forward, the man with the green bionic implant in his eye continued, "Look, you don't look like you're from around here, so let me spell it out for you: don't go poking your nose where it doesn't belong. And watch where you're going, 'cause next time, there'll be no mercy."

Hearing this, Gino clenched his jaw, trying not to lash out or respond without thinking. He finally opted to nod reluctantly, lowering his gaze, and said, "Got it."

Seeing that Gino submitted without a fuss, the man and his mates let out a smirk, their eyes filled with condescension.

However, just as they were about to turn around and head back to their spots, they heard Gino's voice say, "Wait." The smirks vanished as they looked back at him sharply.

"Know anywhere they might need a hand? Ricciardo sent me here." Gino's eyes flicked between the three figures, having made up his mind.

'This is probably not a good idea, but maybe this way I'll have some kind of future, with a bit of protection.' Realising these three were part of some criminal organisation, Gino briefly weighed the pros and cons of working for this sort of people, especially given his current situation.

Hearing his words, the three men exchanged looks, grinning with a mocking, sadistic glee, as their leader exclaimed, "Mate, if good old Ricciardo sent you our way! You should've said so earlier. Come on, come with us." He turned and gestured with his hand, heading off in a certain direction while the other two stayed behind, waiting for Gino.

'I hope I haven't made a mistake,' Gino thought, taking a deep breath. He followed the man and was immediately flanked by the other two.

After walking several hundred metres, the three avoided Gino's attempts at conversation as they led him towards a large, imposing building. As they got closer, Gino noticed more figures wearing hooded robes similar to those escorting him, as well as more shops with a wider variety of goods than those on the previous level.

He even noticed a pleasure house where women in varying states of undress stood outside, scouting for their next clients among the crowded streets.

The faces of most people Gino observed showed signs of stress, poor health, and a defeated look in their eyes. The oversized bags and loose clothing they wore made Gino think that life was incredibly tough for every one of them.

Something that particularly caught Gino's attention was a kind of mark or emblem on the clothing of some residents, and tattooed on recognisable parts of their bodies. This was something he hadn't seen on the previous level or on Ricciardo.

Once escorted into the spacious and imposing building, the four headed towards a side entrance, visibly guarded by two men holding long guns at their sides. In front of the entrance, on the street, sat a rugged, industrial-looking vehicle that didn't quite match the surrounding aesthetic. However, Gino noticed a hatch where the long metal body of what appeared to be a heavy-calibre weapon was aimed directly at the entrance.

'Bloody hell, what have I got myself into?' Gino swallowed hard as he entered the building. Inside, the metallic corridor was lit by a cold light. They walked past ten different doors—Gino counted—until they reached a door on the right, where the leader of the three knocked three times in a certain rhythm.

"Now get in there and answer what they ask, you lanky git. Don't try anything funny, 'cause we'll be right here waiting, got it?" the man said to Gino after hearing a noise from inside the room.

Nodding again, Gino stepped into the room, where a middle-aged man was waiting for him, seated behind a desk. The man had silver hair cut into a fade on both sides, adorned with tattoos. His jaw and lower face were covered by some kind of shiny black metal mask. He wore a buttoned-up suit that looked like it was made of leather, with a style that had a touch of military precision but was clearly high fashion. Clothes that Gino found quite to his liking.

The room was decorated with walls carved into a mural depicting something Gino couldn't quite make out. Two large, tall bookshelves were filled with books and patches, while something resembling a computer, but much more industrial and massive, stood off to one side. On the man's desk lay three different objects that looked like Earth tablets, but the hologram emitting from one made it clear to Gino they were far more advanced pieces of technology.

"Oh, well, so you're a referral, are you? Tell me, who sent you here?" The man's deep voice made Gino unconsciously sit up straighter as he took a seat across from him, following the man's gesture.

"Ricciardo," Gino replied briefly, realising that talking too much wouldn't help, given his accent.

Nodding at Gino's answer, the man immediately grabbed one of the tablets in front of him and began to use it while asking, "You got a name, lad?"

At first, Gino thought about refusing to give his real name, but then decided it didn't really matter. He answered honestly, only giving his first name.

The man didn't seem surprised and simply wrote it down on the tablet, then set it aside and looked Gino squarely in the eyes.

"Alright, Gino, if you're here, it's because you need work. We don't ask about the past or the lives of the people under our wing who want to work for us. We're only interested in you doing what you're told and following our rules. Simple enough, right?" Seeing Gino nod, the man continued.

"We've got a few types of jobs. Some easy, some a bit dodgy. Depends on what you're up for and how useful you can be." The man paused, looking Gino up and down before adding, "Judging by your look, I'm not sure what you bring to the table yet, but I'm willing to give you a chance. So, what's it gonna be, then? You in, or you off?"

Gino swallowed hard, feeling a knot in his stomach. He knew he had little choice, but he still hesitated, as there was a lot that could go wrong for him before even be able to make use of his system. "I'll do it. I'm in," he finally replied, his voice steady but low.

The man gave a small, satisfied nod. "Good. That's what I wanted to hear. Now, let me lay down the rules. First, you don't speak about what you see or hear in this place to anyone. Not a soul, got it?" Gino nodded again., muterring "Got it."

"Second, you do exactly what you're told, when you're told. No questions asked. And third," he leaned forward, his eyes narrowing slightly, "if you betray us, we'll make sure you regret it."

The air in the room grow heavier as the click of a gun echoed within while the cold blooded look of the man promised death, and Gino felt a chill run down his spine. "Understood," he said, trying to keep his composure.

"Alright then," the man said, leaning back in his chair. "You'll start off doing some basic jobs—running messages, fetching things, that sort of stuff. Prove yourself, and maybe you'll get something better." He scribbled something on a scrap of paper and handed it to Gino. "Take this to the bloke at the back entrance. He'll sort you out with what you need."

Gino took the paper and stood up, nodding again to the man. "Thank you," he said, his voice quiet.

The man just waved him off. "Don't thank me yet, lad. We'll see if you've got what it takes. Now get out of here."

As he left the room and was escorted to where he had been instructed, Gino let out the breath he had been holding, feeling his body almost give out right then and there. From now on, Gino was all-in in this world. From now on, there was no turning back—he had to survive in this place.