Chapter 3

The Return (III)

Loan sharks, or a bank? Cain mused silently, a faint smile hanging on his lips as the smoke of the cigarette between his fingers twirled around his face. Bank, definitely a bank, he made a snap decision and took another puff before tossing the cigarette down, stomping on it.

Taking a deep breath and stretching, he went into the bathroom and took a quick shower before dressing in some casual wear and leaving his apartment. However cheap the tickets for airplanes have become, they were still not a luxury he could afford at the moment. And however much his ethics have suffered in the twenty-five years of thievery and such, he still didn’t feel good about stopping random people in the middle of the night and robbing them dry.

As such, the banks made the most sense -- as loan sharks had this unfavorable tendency to track people down and snap their knees in half if they suddenly went to the other side of the country after taking a huge sum of money. Advel’s should do, he thought as he stepped out onto the street. They screwed over a lot of people after the Towers descended... God, watching those pricks burn out later was so satisfying, sheesh...

Shuddering for a moment at the distant memory, he began following a faintly laid-out map toward the bank in his head. Though he knew he couldn't exactly borrow big due to the fact that his job was shit and his credit was in as good of a standing as a great number of ex-Hollywood stars, Advel Bank was one-step-removed from being just a bunch of loan sharks anyway, and they lent out to everyone and their mothers with some insane interest rates.

Those rates, however, didn't matter when there was no intention of ever paying it back. Snickering inwardly, he stopped by a nearby hot-dog stand to grab a bite as he was yet to have breakfast.

Oh, God yes... that’s the stuff... he virtually moaned at the first bite, startling the nearby passersby who shot him odd glances that he didn't even notice as he was too indulged in the sensation of finally eating food that humans ought to eat. Twenty years of green-swung garbage, moldy bread, way-past-the-expiration-date beans, and meat and peas... those were the dark, dark days. I still can't believe those pricks hoarded virtually anything edible, he felt a surge of anger overcome him as he dove into his memories once again. Would it have killed them to let us have at least a few fuckin’ eggs once in a while? Sheesh...

The meal didn't last long as he gorged it all down within a minute, tossing away the paper into the can as he stepped right in front of the bank. By now, most people have wizened-up to Advel's practices which meant that their insides were barren even if there were dozens of people passing by at any given moment due to it being a fairly popular street with a great number of shops lined up.

Not wanting to waste any more time than necessary, he ducked inside and swallowed up their spiel like shall-not-be-named actresses swallowed the shall-not-be-named substance.

“... as such,” the clerk spoke with a beaming smile, handing over one pamphlet after another. “We offer the most beneficial small-time loans for individuals. No guarantee needed, and no waiting time.”

“That sounds amazing!!” Cain exclaimed.

“It really is!” the clerk replied in kind. “You won’t find a better deal anywhere in the country.”

“... there is one problem, though,” Cain awkwardly scratched his head. “Do you have offices in L.A.? I’ll be traveling there for a few months, and I don’t trust our postal services to deliver payments on time...”

“Don’t worry about it -- of course we have offices in L.A.,” the clerk smirked widely. “We have offices everywhere!”

“That’s good, then!” Cain nodded, his fake smile returning. “This really is the best bank in the country!”

“Of course it is. So, dear customer, which package would you like?”

“... I’d like a tier-2 one,” Cain pointed at the pamphlet. “Is it possible?”

“Of course,” the clerk nodded twice over. “All I’ll need from you is some form of identification, your phone number, and your address. After that, we can get right at signing the documents.”

“Fantastic!”

Rolling his eyes inwardly, the two sped through the rest of the process -- Cain because he just wanted to leave as his jaw was getting tired of smiling so much, and the clerk because he was afraid the naive man would suddenly change his mind. It didn’t even take ten minutes for Cain’s account to suddenly ream up to good twenty grand.

Both smiled, shaking hands and singing merry farewells as Cain left. The moment he stepped outside, his smile vanished as he massaged his jaw; it really did hurt. All those fake-smilers must have had at least some fucking surgeries...

Shrugging, he stepped to the side for a moment into the smoking area and lit one up, contemplating the future as he took out his phone and booked the flight for L.A. first thing tomorrow.

“... got a light?” a rough voice brought him back to reality as he looked up. A fairly tall man stood in front of him, appearing middle-aged, wearing a rather fancy suit.

“Got two if you’d like,” Cain replied, taking out the lighter and helping the man light up his cigarette.

“Thank you.” the man said, forcing out a weak smile.

“No worries.”

“I usually have one,” Ah, no, no need to retell me your life story just to excuse the fact you don’t have a fuckin’ lighter... come on man... “But my kid tossed my last reserve this morning. This is my first cig since I woke up.”

“Oh, wow, so that’s why--nevermind...”

“Ha ha ha, it’s fine, say it -- that’s why you look like you’ve just been fucked by an airplane, ha ha ha...”

“... well, I was going for a steel hydrant, but I guess airplane works too.”

“Ha ha ha, nice one,” Ah, there goes the brooding, cool image I had of you man. Why can’t you just behave the way you look? Covers ought to at least remotely resemble what’s inside... “You got any kids?”

“... one,” Cain replied, realizing he wasn’t getting loose of this conversation any time soon. “A daughter.”

“I got two,” the man said. “A boy and a girl, twins. I love ‘em to death, but boy are they a handful...”

“... they really are.”

“How old’s your kid?”

“Nine. Yours?”

“Thirteen,” the man said. “You’re still lucky. Wait for a few years and pray you got a good one.”

“You haven’t?” Cain asked with a grin.

“Oh, one of them -- for sure. The other... boy, if the devil existed, that boy would definitely be its minion.”

“Eh, let them have at the world while they can afford it,” Cain said.

“... well said.” the man nodded as the silence finally fell between the two.

“Anyway, I gotta go,” Cain said as he sped through the rest of the cigarette quickly, tossing the butt into the trashcan to his side. “It was nice to meet you.”

“Likewise man. Thanks for the lighter,” the man said, extending his arm over for a handshake. “My name’s Rick.”

“Cain,” he said, accepting the handshake with a smile. “Good luck, Rick.”

“Same to you, buddy!”

Walking away, Cain felt a surge of pride bubble within him. Would you look at that, he mused. I can maintain a normal conversation like a normal person who didn’t see fifty people tossed into a pit and set on fire. Get help? Psh. Repression and ignoring everything is way better...

Sighing lightly, and realizing he had a whole day before his flight, he took out his phone and fiddled with it for a moment before braving his fingers and dialing Emma. The phone rang a few times before an annoyed voice replied from the other line.

“... what?” Ooh boy, she’s fucking mad...

“You at work?” Cain asked.

“No? It’s a fucking Sunday,” she said. “Did you get so boozed last night you forgot?”

“... I’m telling you, I really did quit drinking! That much, at least!”

“Yes, and I’m still a virgin. Funny how that worked out...” she sighed faintly before continuing. “What do you want, C’?”

“... my flight’s tomorrow morning.” he said.

“Oh.” she fell silent for a moment, the atmosphere between the two growing heavy. “Have a safe flight, I guess.”

“... let’s go out.” Cain suddenly said.

“Huh?”

"The three of us," he elaborated. "Go see a movie, have lunch, take a walk, that sort of shit. Like the old times."

“... what old times?” she growled. “I specifically remember you literally never doing that with us. I do remember, however, having to loop you over my shoulder as you stumbled into the house at 3 A.M., as drunk as a dead oak.”

“... yup, ‘kay, I deserved that one. I really mean it, though. Just one day, like a proper family.”

“... what’s with you all of a sudden, C’?” Emma asked. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you were dying from cancer or something.”

“... what? A man can’t want to spend time with his family?”

“No, no, a man can -- I just don’t remember you ever becoming a man.”

“... you know, I usually do enjoy our witty banter, but not when it cuts so deep man. That hurt.”

“It was supposed to.”

“Ah, come on -- it’s just one day, Em’,” he said. “I’ll even pay for everything. I’m sure Lana will have a lot of fun, and I can finally do what I never got to do when we were married.”

“And what’s that?” she asked, sighing.

“What every proper husband ought to do,” he said, grinning. “Pretend really hard to listen to you complaining about your job, your friends, and your colleagues.”

“... you’re really serious about this, aren’t you?” she asked, chuckling faintly.

“Yeah.”

"... fine," she relented with a sigh. "I'll wake up Lana and we can meet at Rick's for breakfast. How's that?"

“Fantastic!” Cain exclaimed. “If it weren’t incredibly inappropriate, I’d even say I just got hard!”

“Not impressed,” she said. “Everything gets you hard... that was one of the few things I liked about you toward the end. I didn’t even have to try to get you into the mood...”

“... how do you manage to both make me feel like a champ and a tiny little snail at the same time? That’s a dangerous talent, Em’.”

“Alright, alright, save your quibbles for a broad who cares,” she said. “Meet you there in an hour, okay?”

“Sure!”

Hanging up, a subconscious smile appeared on Cain’s face as he took a deep breath, reveling in the day. It was different -- much, much different than the last time. He’d never, never, let anything happen to them again. If he could, and if Emma would listen to him even for a second, he’d drag them both over to L.A. with him. Nothing should happen to them, he comforted himself. No Towers will descend here, and by the time the chaos truly erupts, I’ll already be classified and back. Then, I’ll somehow convince her to come with me... now, though, let’s go have some quality family fun...

A day passed in the blink of an eye, and Cain found himself staring through the plan’s window as it taxied. He decided to splurge a bit and got into the first class, though it was mostly just to avoid someone breathing down his neck and kicking the back of his chair for hours on end.

Quietly sipping whiskey as though it was the most natural thing in the world, he took out a notebook and continued jotting down everything he remembered. Every event, every floor, every item, every class, every figure... whatever was in his mind was important enough to write down. The useless things he had already forgotten a long time ago.

Mumbling ‘Status Window’ softly, he went over it again, noticing the few minuscule changes that occurred. This thing, he mused, was quite handy, especially for figuring out if there was something wrong with you. It was because of this precisely that most of the medicine in the post-Towers world became obsolete as the window could identify whatever was wrong with a person, and potions from within the Towers could be used to cure any and all ailments. No, it was Saints and Saintesses that played a much bigger role...

The advent of classes would change the world even more than the Towers, as the miracles previously thought impossible... would become an everyday reality. From what he recalled, the third year in people were already building mansions on the Moon, and within fifteen years, nearly two million lived on Mars permanently -- mostly the retired 'Conquerors' as people referred to those who regularly ventured into the Towers. Doesn’t matter, he shrugged. None of my business...

///Name: Cain Gregory Age: 32 Race: Human

Class: N/A

Strength: 5 Vitality: 6 Agility: 6 Stamina: 6

Intelligence: 9 Wisdom: 7

Traits: Labourer(D-), Quick-witted(C+), Tenacious(E+), Leadership (D-)

Skills: N/A

Items: N/A

Titles: N/A

Achievements: N/A \