《My Superhero Fantasy》White Bastard Part 1
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As the man fell to the floor, everyone in the factory noticed what kind of trouble they were now in. “Bang!” the shot wasn’t just to terrify the invader but also to hold all the drug couriers. It was from a man in a suit. Same black suit and black tie as the man who fell and all the other men with guns. The man who just shot shouted, “No one is going to leave here before we got him!” other men with the same suit started to patrol the area after they felt that cold-blood stare from the man. The man’s codename was “Pheidippides” He claimed he himself was one of the drug couriers and climbed to his nowadays position by hard work, which wasn’t true. As Pheidippides was standing in the middle of the factory and doing nothing but making himself an easy target, another man fell to the ground with a shuriken stuck in his neck, like the first man who fell. “White Bastard! You damn loser! Come out, and let’s have a fair duel!” I couldn’t find anything else in his word rather than those basketball trash talk. He couldn’t defeat me, and it was proved long ago. Another three shurikens went straight to their throats and tracheas. All the wearing-suit men got wiped out from this world, except Pheidippides, of course. He knew I didn’t want to kill him. I was sure about it.
I jumped down from the roof, with a few bouncing along the wall and pillars, just like my shurikens. I still chose to stay in the shadow even after I jumped down because I didn’t want to reveal that I was on the roof all the time. I still needed that tactic for later use. I stared at those drug couriers. They were all squatting down and holding their head in a very standard way that they were taught to do. They thought one day they could be Pheidippides when they were first in. Then they became livestock that could only do what the boss said. I walked straight to Pheidippides toward his back. He didn’t even try to be careful in this situation. I knocked him off with a metal stick I picked up on the ground. “All of you, get out of here!” I shouted in a pretty extreme volume. People holding their heads ran away. I didn’t want to kill them or hurt them. They weren’t evil but just got stuck into this dark industry for whatever reason they had. Well, some were volunteered, but I did never have time to pick those volunteers out.
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The fire soon engulfed the whole factory. Burning heroines evaporated into the air, rushing to find their way out of the factory. Devils in the air, trying to destroy everyone’s will and body. Tentacles everywhere, catching and slowly, gradually squeezing everyone in the city. A skull in the air, attempting to find a chance to tear your life into pieces.
The whole city was going to be high for the entire morning, but indeed, I eliminated a factory where drugs were made and carried all over the city. Five enemies got killed, and Pheidippids got a few punctures on his stomach. I had to make him look like someone who fought back conscientiously to me and luckily survived. I felt relieved every times I let him go. I told myself it was because I needed him to mess up with their plan. It didn’t matter for most of the time. This gang was weak and rubbish-like by itself. Probably I didn’t even need to kill the other men, too.
I sat in my heavy black vehicle. Next to me was a bag of money. It was black with a white homemade logo. I drew it with white varnish. A white plus sign appeared on a white shuriken. The style of shuriken was the most common one, like the one I used, with a hole at the center. It reminded me that I left four of them in the factory. The wasting of shurikens didn’t really bother me a lot unless I ran out of them in a battle, but it never happened again since I left that snow mountain. Those dollars in the bag came from the factory. I always took some money from those drug dealers to fund my crimes-fighting career. It made sense to me. If it’s not from the criminals, where should I get my fund? I drove to a well-unknown alley that only few like me went. I got my money hidden here, in a manhole with a broken lid. With my utterly black sportswear and completely black sports pant that had nothing to do with white, I went home with my black sneakers.
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I lived in an old apartment with few people I knew and more that I didn’t. The community was a mystery because I rarely cared about this place. An old lady was coming out of her room as I got to my floor from the stairs. She was a teacher but now retired. Her hair was a bit curved, and they weren’t long. The curved extremity touched her beige chin. The red muffler surrounded her neck with green-flower patterns. The scarlet muffler matched the pink sweater and the tiny black jacket that made her look shorter. She often gave me cookies and crackers, and I sometimes helped with her heavy bags after going to the market. She limply trod hard on the creaking wooden floor toward me. She was happy, and she was smiling. “Cinkarry! I was just going to the market. My grandson is going to arrive tonight.” She couldn’t stop her titter when she said it. “Your grandson is coming?” I simply felt happy for her. She was really a lonely lady. Her husband died a few years ago. “The school finally decided to give these kids a break?” I stopped walking toward my door and followed her as she passed by, “I am sure that bag is going to be heavy today. Need a hand?”
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