The Dirty Diver

While the Pulse Sparrows were off many things began happening outside their little haven.

Mr Signate, a wealth influencer on tour, stopped in at a local bar, everyone was dying to meet him. He simply smiled and walked into the bar. As he ordered a drink and got snippy with the hostess, demanding she give him what he's owed.

When she refused he raised a hand to her only to find a shadow holding him back.

"I think you've had enough to drink pal. You alright Miss?"

"I'm alright thanks, your drinks on me."

"HOW DARE YOU TOUCH ME!"

"Look pal, hands to yourself or I'll make sure my hands are the land thing you see, got it?"

"Some nerve! I am Mr. Signate! This stupid bimbo deserves whatever I give her!"

"I know who you are, and I don't give a flying fuck."

"Here's that drink Mr. Ghost."

"Thank you much, here's a 500 cred tip for you, tell the tender he's had enough."

"DON'T YOU DARE!"

The Ghost tosses Mr. Signate's seat off balance causing him to fall off it. The bar goes quit as Ghost sighs.

"Seriously, what the fuck is your problem?"

"ME? YOU KNOCKED ME OUT OF THE CHAIR!"

"No, gravity did, I just gave it a push."

"Oh just you see, I'll kick your ass!"

"Not in the bar, the kind people here, don't much care for fighting in the establishment, go outside, I'll meet you there once I've finished my drink."

Mr. Signate stood up as the Ghost downed a shot of whiskey. He cocked his arm back ready to throw a punch only to have Ghost tackle him, running him out of the bar tossing him into the street.

"NO FIGHTING IN THE BAR!" yelled the Ghost as he went back inside.

Mr. Signate stood up, his coat and clothes were all dirty, wet, and muddy. He gritted his teeth and went back inside. This time, a few chromed-up guys blocked his way.

"Let me in NOW!"

"Can't you ready? Only regulars after dusk, and it's after dusk." said one

Mr. Signate growled and shot the man, making his way into the bar. "WHERE THE FUCK IS HE!"

Ghost turned aiming his 700 Nitro Express Revolving Rifle at Signate.

"I'm only gonna say this once, wanna live? Get Out."

"Who are you to threaten me?"

"Oh, maybe you haven't heard yet, so let me correct that, I am THE Ghost of Ottawa, now the richest man in Free City, hell, the world. So I ask you this, why harass a hostess, when in my presence?"

"Bullshit! You're such a liar! There is no Ghost, and that dumb server couldn't even see past her chest with a rack like that! Wow! You clearly have some balls, I am the richest man, so everyone one should worship me! So what if one idiotic bimbo gets touched, what are you gonna do about it?"

The Ghost looks through a red squint and fires the rifle through Mr. Signate's eye, leaving a mess all over floor and walls of the bar behind him.

"Sorry about the mess, I'll clean him up."

The patrones of the bar laugh and help clean up the dead guy, tossing his body out into the street then returning to their drinks. The Bartender scrubs the footage of the incident before the police arrived. They tried to interview people but the most they got was that he'd been a jerk to a waitress and then left, they had no idea he'd even died.

After the police left, the Ghost bought everyone a round, then paid his tab and left the bar. The hostess watched him walk into the night then vanish into a mist of fog.