This time, I didn't have to wait long. The brat didn't waste much time as the door opened back just a few minutes after he left.
Once again, his round head stuck out of the door. But this time, his narrowed eyes and tightened lips painted the image of a different expression on his pale face. Not of consternation as it was before. But of complete, profound wariness. Like he stared directly at a wild beast ready to devour him.
"It seems... indeed, you are his friend, Mr. Stella." He uttered, his tone was as calm as a stormless sea. No aggression or hostility dwelt in his voice. Instead, it sounded meek and humble, like he spoke to an overarching superior. "You have been granted permission by the boss himself."
I nodded.
So, during the three years we haven't seen each other, the blond bastard became the head of one of the four major gangs in the backlands, huh?
As the thought streamed through my brain, a small, almost bitter smile tugged at my lips.
The fact that I had failed to consider this has left a tiny dent in my plan. Now, it's definitely a no-brainer that he'll be extremely loyal to his gang. I'll have to play my cards differently and more smartly than I initially planned.
But knowing Mangé.. knowing my friend, I..
I don't know him anymore. It's been three years. And people change. But still, it's not foolish to assume that fragments of the friend I remember still exist within him, right? If so, then I..
Haa..
Just thinking about the reason I'm here again reminds me of the weight of all that I'll have to bear. Calling it rebellion really doesn't sit right with me. It makes my heart race in an unhealthy way.
I should call it something else. I'm not planning a 'rebellion,' I'm planning a…
A heist. Yes, that's much better. It sounds like something that I'm more comfortable with. Something that a man like me could plan. A heist. Ha.
"How do I get in, though?" I asked. My gaze stayed steady on the sight of the boy's wary, reverent expression.
Should I just jump in like I had planned initially?
"You see that pothole over there?" The boy stretched his hand, pointing his index finger at that one odd pothole that lay in the middle of the smoothly tarred street.
I lowered my gaze, staring intently at the pothole that sat directly under the metal door, just a few inches away from where I stood.
"What about it?" I asked, my slightly softened gaze scanning the pothole. "Why exactly should I stand there?"
I have a feeling…
"Please, Mr. It's the only way to enter the building." He said. His voice was edged with a subtle, frustrated tone.
He's being polite now, even calling me 'Mr.' Thought he wanted to blast my head off earlier, calling me a bastard and whatnot. Where'd all that fiery spunk go?
I shook my head slowly, wiping the smile creeping on my lips and taking a short walk toward the pothole.
Alas, I stood on top of the pothole, which was quite large. Larger than I had thought it was. But it wasn't deep. It was shallow and was wide enough to fit a grown adult.
And on a closer look, it didn't quite resemble a pothole in the normal sense. This one looked like the result of constant heating. Like heat had slowly burnt that area on the surface of the ground, and the product was the pothole.
I took my gaze away from the pothole, slowly trailing upward.
"Now wh–"
My words halted as a brilliant harmony of yellow hues rained down on me from the open door.
Immediately, I squinted my eyes, but I didn't close them, for whatever stubborn reason. It felt as though I gazed directly at the surface of the sun. The brilliant rays burned my eyes, causing hot beads of tears to roll down my cheeks.
It was a miracle that I didn't go blind. But what occurred after the light was the real miracle.
The weight of my body vanished. Like I suddenly wasn't.
I felt light at that moment, like gravity had stopped fighting against me. And then, my chest floated. I could barely breathe properly. It felt like my lungs constricted.
Immediately, my gaze flickered downward. At the pothole beneath me. My legs were inches away from the pothole. I was levitating.
"Ah, I understand it now." I uttered, my brain finally comprehending that which my body experienced.
At that tender moment, the air became still. Its current and motion seized as I ascended. My shoulder felt lighter, and that small smirk that danced on my lips fully widened as the weight that had been pressing down on my being ever since I woke up this morning completely dissipated.
Maybe their technology isn't so bad after all.
The levitation felt like it ended as soon as it began, as I found myself standing on top of a metal floorboard.
Soon after, my wide smile faded, replaced by a neutral yet oppressive expression that greatly resembled a frown.
I turned my neck left and right, my flickering gaze scanning the surroundings of where I had found myself.
"Welcome." The brat's voice rang. He stood just beside me, squatting and pulling a strange metal lever that seemed like some kind of switch that toggled the mechanism of the levitating device.
"Where is Mangé?" I ignored his lackluster greeting, taking my gaze off of him, and focusing on the three separate doors at the end of the room that definitely led away from this poorly lit veranda.
"Nng." He let out a faint groan as the lever made a crunching sound. "Finally," He said as he closed the small, square door, locking it with a squarish metal padlock before standing up and dusting his hands.
"So…" He finally uttered. His warm ocean blue eyes found mine. Those eyes of his carried a subtle gleam that fluctuated with every wary breath he drew. His forehead was wrinkled, his face visible enough for me to spot his bitter frown under the faint, flickering light bulbs. "Mr Stella, come with me. I'll lead you to the boss."
It lingered on him for a second; my gaze. And then, I nodded.
"This way." He politely gestured at the middle door with his left hand before walking forward. And I followed behind him.
His clothes were strange. But I didn't care; it would have been stranger if a gangster's clothing were normal.
On his legs, there was a rugged, large, black cargo pant which was so long that it swept the ground with every step he took. His upper wear was a bit normal. A white, torn short-sleeve shirt with the printed image of a black jagged skull slapped on the back of it, contrasting with the red ribbon he tied around his left arm.
A short kid. The brat's height isn't even up to my chest.
There was no cybernetic enhancement or modified part on his body. A sight rarely seen in the Cyclo Gang.
In fact, the only sign of machinery that was obvious on his body was the plasma pistol that lay on a strap at the side of his pants.
An armed teenager. A recipe for disaster. No wonder the kid said he'd blast my head off.
I swallowed a faint chuckle. Walking slowly behind him as we passed various doors on both sides of a faintly lit passage that seemed to be a hallway.
The long string of silence that stretched between us was strongly palpable and thick. So thick that it couldn't be easily snapped with a scissor.
This left both the sounds of our footsteps and that of distant various masculine laughter as the only sounds that subtly permeated the silence-filled void.
"What's your name?" I asked the brat. Finally breaking that long-lasting silence.
His body quivered for a mini second. He almost paused, but continued walking. "My name?" He asked.
"Yes. Your name."
"Fero." He replied immediately.
Not a bad name.
"Nice name."
"Uh.. Thank you… Mr Stella." He responded, the pitch of his voice heightened as subtle stammering choked his speech.
Before I could reply to him, Fero uttered: "We have arrived, Mr."
Indeed, we had arrived, because we stood just in front of a large metallic door that seemed to house the sources of those various masculine laughter that had become louder than they were earlier. But the kid refused to open the damned door.
I stood still. The soft expression on my face morphed into a confused, almost annoyed one.
"Before we go in, Mr. I want to ask, are you a sparrow?"
To his question, I offered no reply. I simply deemed my silence enough of an answer.
"Judging from the fact that you're a friend of the boss, I will assume that you are a person of high capabilities even if you're not a sparrow." He said, "Please, look past the… antics of the other gang members in this room. All our members are gathered and fired up, preparing for a big operation." As he said this, his voice dropped low, growing harsher and darker in its tone. "Do not look them in the eyes."
My eyes slightly widened, but narrowed back instantly.
Cute kid. I don't sense the high Te — soul/life force of a sparrow in there. I have nothing to fear.
"I see. Then, answer a question of my own, Fero." I spoke, outstretching my hand toward the door. "Is there a sparrow in there?"
"No."
A smile tugged at the corners of my lips.
I pushed the door open immediately.
"Then let's go in."