ECHOS OF THE GUARDIAN COMRADE
Machine Gun Killer
In Webinres, the heart of the Veze State
city that never sleeps, where elites in exquisite attire live in a constant cycle of parties and social gatherings, as if it were the standard evening routine for high-society citizens
The influence of the Pharares group has transformed this desert city into a landscape of soaring skyscrapers and neon lights, propelling it decades ahead of any other city
While the surrounding outskirts remain stuck in the soot-stained era of coal and steam engines from 1902, Webinres stands as a twisted and most extravagant vision of the future
Alright... listen up everyone...
In the dark, musty alleys of the third-class district, life here is the polar opposite of the neon lit skyscraper zone. There is no luxuryonly a raw, gritty reality and the persistent grime of backbreaking labor
young man in a brown cloak stood at the center of a crowd of people who had just finished their grueling labor
Dozens of pairs of eyes stared back at him, clinging to a flickering glimmer of hope
His voice was deep and commanding, echoing against the cracked concrete walls
I’ve gathered you all here today because... those bastards 'up there' have crossed the line. They’ve started prey on the children in our neighborhood.
He clenched his fists so hard the veins bulged.
A middle-aged man shouted back, a burlap sack slung over his shoulder
We’re nothing but pawns under their boots. How the hell are we supposed to go up against the Pharares?
If we make too much noise and they shut down the construction site tomorrow, how am I supposed to feed my wife and kids?
Who’s gonna take responsibility for that!?
A young woman's voice chimed in from the back of the line
"They ve got the law and magic-infused guns on their side. All we’ve got are shivs and sledgehammers. You want us to go out there just to get our heads blown off for kicks?"
But amidst the loud, chaotic bickering... in the dark corner of a crumbling building, a lone figure stood leaning against the wall
A soft hum echoed from his throat.
The mysterious man wore a navy blue coat, his hand expertly flipping a gold coin back and forth through his fingers.
He muttered to himself softly, brushing a stray speck of dust off his shoulder
Vingtus
"Arguing isn't going to put more money in your pockets brothers..."
Vingtus
"In this world, it’s simple: the ones with the heaviest fists get the meat, and the ones with the weakest fists get the dust. That’s just how it is.
The young man in the brown cloak whipped around toward the source of the voice, his gaze sharp and piercing
And who the hell are you?
What are you standing there mumbling about?
The mysterious man stopped humming. He slowly looked up, a provocative smirk playing on the corner of his lips
Vingtus
I'm just a passerby looking for a decent place to crash, but I ended up having to listen to some old-timer’s sermon on justice instead
He flicked the coin into the air and snatched it out of the sky with a firm grip.
Vingtus
But if you’re serious about taking a swing at those 'upstairs' bastards... I’ve got an offer that’s a hell of a lot more interesting than sitting around shouting at each other in this rat hole.
The man in the navy blue coat let a final smirk tug at the corner of his lips before turning on his heel and walking away without a second thought. He raised a hand over his head, giving a mockingly casual wave without even looking back, leaving the crowd in the shadows utterly baffled by his open for business but couldn't care less attitude
"What's with that guy... is he crazy?"
A voice muttered after him in doubt, but he didn't pay it the slightest bit of attention
He stepped out from the alleyway onto a side street of the Third-Class District. The atmosphere instantly shifted into a chaotic swirl of street food culture
The heavy scent of frying oil and the humid steam from roadside carts lingering in the air. He deftly sidestepped a group of burly men hauling a cart of iron past a workshop, where the thunderous rhythm of hammers striking concrete echoed through the street.
As he strolled along, he raised a slender finger to press a tiny communication device tucked behind his ear
Before the person on the other end could even utter a greeting, the young man cut them off, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Vingtus
How many times do I have to tell you? I'm never taking a job from you...
Vingtus
You fat old geezer! Why don't you take your money and go buy yourself some donuts already!
He cut the line instantly, not waiting for the inevitable barrage of insults from the other end. The young man exhaled sharply, popping a piece of gum into his mouth and blowing bubbles that snapped and crackled with an air of pure boredom
Vingtus
Man, I'm so bored I could DIEEEE!!!
Suddenly, he just let out a massive, unhinged shout right in the middle of the street. It was enough to make everyone at the roadside stalls freeze in their tracks. Every head turned at once, their eyes practically screaming, 'Which asylum did this one escape from?
A man nearby, currently mid-chew on a large steamed bun, eyed him suspiciously before turning to whisper to his friend while shaking his head.
"Sigh... another one losing to the voices in his head. This city is getting harder to live in every day."
Hearing that, the young man in the navy coat could only manage an awkward, sheepish grin, pretending to be fascinated by the scenery to hide his embarrassment. He lowered his head and pushed through the crowded street aimlessly—yet, beneath the shadow of his hat, his eyes continued to scan the surroundings, hunting for 'something' worthy enough to actually kill his boredom
Salish Enda...
The young man in the navy blue coat strolled into an old garage located on the street corner
. The sharp scent of motor oil and scrap metal hit his nose the moment he stepped through the door. All he could see were the legs of a middle-aged man sticking out from under the wreckage of a massive vehicle one that looked like it had survived a brutal battlefield.
Without hesitation, he reached over, grabbed a glass of water from the mechanic’s workbench, and took a casual sip before plopping himself down on a nearby wooden crate
Vingtus
Hey, old man... is the ride finished yet?
Vingtus
I’ve been waiting for three days already
The clatter of a screwdriver against metal rang out for a moment before the garage owner slid out from under the chassis. He stood up, wiping the sweat from his grime-streaked face with the back of his hand. simple, honest smile broke through his grease-stained expression
Pedas
It's in the back shed...
Pedas
All finished. Go check it out for yourself
The young man in the navy coat gave a subtle, satisfied smirk. He flicked the gold coin in his hand toward the garage owner. It spun through the air in a blur before being snatched mid-air by a thick
calloused hand
Vingtus
This time, I m counting on it to actually fly, old man. Let's not have a repeat of last time...
Where the wheel just decided to pop off and overtake me while I was driving. I almost got a one-way ticket to reincarnation inside one of those neon skyscrapers.
The garage owner let out a low chuckle, draining the remaining water in the glass. He grumbled to himself with a mix of irritation and hidden pride.
Pedas
Yeah, yeah, talk is cheap. This job was anything but easy...
Pedas
Tweaking an engine like that to keep it stable was a nightmare. I’ve never seen a vehicle so damn weird in my life!
He watched the young man's back as he headed toward the rear of the garage, where a bizarrely shaped 'vehicle' sat waiting beneath a dusty faded tarp
slender teenage girl emerged from the back room of the garage, carrying a tray of freshly baked bread and freshly squeezed fruit juice. She walked straight to the middle-aged mechanic, who was busy wiping his hands with a tattered rag
Her father replied, stuffing a large piece of bread into his mouth and chewing hungrily before gulping down the juice until the glass was empty
He then gestured with a tilt of his head toward the guest leaning against the wall.
Pedas
Go on... bring some for Mr. Vingtus as well
Sane hesitated. She slowly turned to look at the man in the navy blue coat standing in the corner of the garage. The dim light from outside cast a shadow that highlighted a long, jagged scar across his left cheek. It was a frightening mark that contrasted sharply with his usually mischievous expression
She offered him the bread with hands that trembled slightly, her eyes cast downward toward the floor in a state of deep-seated fear
Sane
For saving us, Mr. Vingtus
She murmured, her voice so soft it was barely audible
Just a few days ago, in a pitch-black alley where Sane had nearly fallen prey to the Pharares' brutal debt collectors, it was Vingtus who had strolled into the middle of the confrontation, humming a tune. With a flick of his wrist, he sent a single gold coin flying into the leader's forehead, knocking him out cold on the spot.
He glanced at the girl, who was still trembling, before giving her a provocatively kind smile one that was surprisingly gentle
Vingtus
No need to be scared. I got this scar from slipping and falling onto a dinner plate. It’s not nearly as cool as it looks
He told that blatant lie while taking a big, unbothered bite of the bread.
Pedas tossed his grease-stained rag onto his lap. He slumped onto an old wooden chair with a heavy air of exhaustion, using the same cloth to roughly wipe the sweat from his bald head. His eyes lingered on his daughter’s back as she disappeared into the kitchen, his gaze clouded with a lingering sorrow
Pedas
Ever since her mother passed... Sane’s been quiet like that
Pedas exhaled, shaking his head slowly.
Pedas
That was the first time in a year I’ve seen her smile even if it was a bit forced because she’s still half-scared of you..
Vingtus sat on another wooden bench across the room. He leaned his back against the cracked concrete wall of the garage, legs crossed in a relaxed, carefree posture. Beneath the brim of his hat, his sharp eyes remained fixed on the young girl’s small frame as she walked away
Vingtus
smile looks a hell of a lot better than a face that looks like it's eating rotten fish, old man
Vingtus remarked with a slight smirk.
Vingtus
"It’s good that she still can. Especially in a city where the neon lights are so bright, they blind you from seeing any hope."
Pedas fell silent for a moment before his tone shifted into something much more serious. He leaned forward, dropping his voice to a low whisper
Pedas
You need to watch your back lately, Vingtus... the iron transporters from the outskirts brought me some news.
Pedas
. Mercenaries from other states are starting to crawl all over the place. They aren’t here to hunt monsters like some amateurs
Pedas
They’re sniffing around for 'work' that Pharares has been commissioning in the shadows.
He paused for a beat, gauging the reaction of the young man in the navy coat
Pedas
"The 'Shadow Hunters' from the Steam Industrial Zone have shown their faces around here too. Word is, one of their guys got beaten to a pulp in an alley the other day... You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?
Pedas tossed a brown envelope across the engine repair table. Vingtus snatched it out of the air with his fingertips with pinpoint precision before casually sliding out the photo inside
Vingtus
Who's this, old man? She's gorgeous
His gaze was fixed on the woman in the photograph. She had raven-black hair and stylish, sharp-edged glasses. She was dressed in a dark, form-fitting suit designed for field agents, layered with a hoodie, and an advanced magic device was strapped to her waist
Vingtus
With a figure like that and a face like this... I’ve got to say, she’s a total Cyber-Angel,"
Vingtus remarked with a playful, flirtatious smirk
Pedas lit a cigarette, a cloud of smoke billowing out. His eyes grew grave as he spoke about the woman in the photo.
Pedas
female hero from the Federation. She’s the one who saved my daughter when the Hulelens tried to kidnap Sane
Vingtus continued to stare at the photo, murmuring softly
Pedas
You’ve only got two choices, Vingtus
Pedas said, exhaling a stream of cigarette smoke through his nose
Pedas
Fight alone until you’re dead, or cooperate with the Hero Federation indirectly. Speaking as an ex-mercenary myself, I’d suggest the latter
Vingtus immediately twisted his face into a mocking grimace. He shifted his gaze to a kitten swatting at a ball of yarn next to an oil drum, before clasping his hands behind his head and leaning back against the wall with his usual nonchalance
He let out a low, dry chuckle.
Vingtus
"Those heroes... they’re all 'frauds'
He went quiet for a heartbeat, his eyes drifting back to Salish’s photo once more. For a split second, that playful glint in his eyes wavered
Vingtus
"She’s just... a little 'different,' that's all. But in the end, heroes are just pawns for the higher-ups, and me? I’m just a wolf who prefers the back alleys. Teaming up... that's just not my style at all."
flowers never truly bloom.
Vingtus lay stretched out across the cool iron bed of his pickup truck, his posture so relaxed he looked almost boneless. One hand served as a makeshift pillow behind his head, while the other casually toyed with a set of car keys, tossing them into the air.
The rhythmic metallic clink harmonized with the gentle evening breeze
Which slowly swept away the desert’s scorching heat, replacing it with the golden warmth of the setting sun casting its glow over the scrap metal and spare parts scattered throughout the garage
He was enveloped by the bizarre yet comforting sounds of life. The constant chatter from the back alleys of the Third-Class District drifted in
Workers shouting for extra spicy sauce at the end of their shifts, the sizzle of frying oil from roadside carts, and the giggles of bratty kids chasing each other over piles of old tires, followed by the affectionate grumbles of a vegetable vendor.
Inside the garage, the symphony continued. Pedas’s sledgehammer struck the anvil
Vingtus gazed up at the orange-blue sky, tracking the massive silhouettes of advanced vehicles gliding past, leaving streaks of pure white vapor against the golden clouds. The world up there felt worlds away from the noisy clutter of this alley. But for him...
This rawness, scented with grease and friendly insults, was the most pleasant sanctuary he could ask for
As darkness took hold and the sky deepened into navy blue, the alley lights flickered on in unison. An old streetlamp hummed before splashing its light directly onto Vingtus’s face. He shifted away from the glare, groaning groggily
He pushed himself up, rubbing his eyes to shake off the sleepiness. He looked up at the stars, which struggled to shine against the garish neon glow from the city center. At that moment,
Sane emerged from the kitchen, carefully balancing a tray of aromatic beef stew and toasted bread. She walked toward the truck stiffly, her eyes downcast, unsure if he was even still there
Seeing her, Vingtus leaned back against the truck's edge, staying silent to avoid startling her while he lit a cigarette. The girl placed the tray down as softly as possible before spinning around to retreat in fear. Vingtus slowly peeked over, exhaling a thin trail of smoke. His gaze, following her small frame, softened significantly
The deep voice breaking the silence made Sane jump, but she didn't dare look back. She picked up her pace and vanished into the house, leaving Vingtus alone with his warm meal and the scent of cigarette smoke under the stars
Dawn arrived, veiled in a haze of steam and engine exhaust. Vingtus leaped into the driver’s seat before cranking the ignition of his loyal partner. The engine let out a thunderous roar that echoed through the garage, kicking up clouds of dust as he slammed on the gas
Sane, who had been hiding behind the garage door, slowly peeked out to watch the receding tail lights. Her gaze wavered slightly as she stared at the shadow of the man who terrified her so
Vingtus headed straight for the Steam Industrial Zone. As he drew closer, the landscape of Webinres served as a stark reminder of the city's vast inequality. The towering skyscrapers of the elite loomed in the background, while the roadside was cluttered with cramped, aging factories and shanties caked in layers of black soot
He yanked the steering wheel, pulling up in front of a dilapidated tavern-style bar. The dim neon sign out front flickered erratically. Vingtus stepped out of the vehicle, straightened the collar of his coat, and pushed his way into the bar
A place thick with the stifling stench of tobacco and motor oil.
Vingtus slammed on the brakes, slowing his vehicle to a crawl by the roadside as the chaos ahead came into view
supply truck had lost control and plowed into the ruins of an old building, leaving crates and fresh goods scattered all over the asphalt
After killing the engine, he pulled out a pair of binoculars to zoom in from a distance
The lenses captured a group of burly men in light body armor, armed to the teeth. They stood circling the truck, locked in a heated shouting match
I told you not to take this route!
Do you have any idea how important these supplies are!?
The leader barked at his subordinate, pointing aggressively at the shattered wooden crates spilling dried meat and grains onto the ground.
Those Hulelen bastards laid out caltrops! Nobody could’ve dodged that in time!
the other man shot back, tightening his grip on his rifle as he scanned the surroundings warily.
If they find out the 'seized' supplies are sitting ducks out here, they’ll swarm this place for sure!
"Then quit barking and start loading! Anyone who gets in the way, crush 'em!"
Vingtus lowered the binoculars slightly, his sharp gaze fixed on the unfolding scene. Those goods spilling out onto the street... they weren't just ordinary supplies.
Vingtus lowered the binoculars. He reached for a rubber band, loosely pulling his silver hair into a low ponytail at the nape of his neck. Next came the dark sunglasses to camouflage his eyes
Followed by a piece of medical tape slapped over the scar on his cheek to alter his facial features. He gave his beloved twin pistols one last check before concealing them thoroughly beneath the seat
He slammed on the gas, surging directly toward the incident site. The bizarrely shaped pickup truck screeched to a halt right in front of the furious armed group. Several of them whipped around instantly, tightening their grips on their weapons and training them all on him as one
1
Hold it! Who the hell are you!?
A hulking man stepped forward to block the truck, scanning the vehicle with a predatory glare
Vingtus rolled down the window, leaning out with an air of pure innocence
Vingtus
Just a cassava delivery guy, sir!
2
There is no cassava here.
Another man approached, leaning his arm against the truck door, peering suspiciously inside the cabin
1
You don't exactly look like a farmer type to me.
Vingtus
"Oh, we do it in relays, sir!
Vingtus was quick with a seamless explanation, his voice smooth as silk
Vingtus
I picked up the load from Lonbus, headed straight up through North Eranway, then cut into Central Lanta until I broke through here to the Vese Desert. The route’s a real nightmare, so I have to dress bundled up like this.
The armed men exchanged glances for a moment. Hearing the familiar place names and detailed, seasoned route, the leader exhaled an irritated breath, waving him off
2
Yeah, yeah... long ass route... Just beat it!
2
Don't you dare park and get in the way around here. Eyesore!"
The sun had long since dipped below the horizon. Vingtus yanked the wheel, pulling into a cramped, aging gas station. The faded neon lights hummed with a low buzz, competing
With the sound of the wind whipping desert sand against the truck’s body. The acrid scent of raw fuel clung to the chilling night air
He perched on the edge of the truck bed, gripping a massive hamburger he’d just picked up, taking huge, unbothered bites without a single care for his appearance. A frosty can of soda sat within arm's reach
Vingtus stole glances toward a young female attendant wiping down a pump in the distance. She wore oversized coveralls stained with oil, yet her face looked remarkably clear and bright
Every time Vingtus feigned a sip of his drink or looked away, she would steal a curious, interested glance at him. But the moment his gaze swept back, she’d instantly bury herself in her work. It was a brief, rhythmic dance of eye contact that only happened when the other wasn't looking
Massive bike tore through the silence, its engine roaring as it screeched to a halt right in front of the fuel pump. The rider leaped off with fluid agility
His upper body bare to reveal lean, powerful muscles that spoke of both strength and speed. His face was strikingly handsome, looking much younger than his actual years
He stretched lazily, letting out a massive yawn before waving a hand at the girl nearby
faint smile instantly bloomed on the girl's face the moment she saw him. Not waiting for a reply, the young man strode into the gas station’s convenience store with practiced familiarity. Moments later, he emerged with a carton of milk and a canned drink in hand
As he headed back to his bike, he whipped out a pocketknife, stabbing it into the bottom of the can with lightning speed. He let the liquid jet into his mouth, chilling out as if this was his everyday ritual. With his other hand, he tore open a package of sausages, tossing them into his mouth one by one with unerring accuracy as he walked. His playful eyes seemed utterly unbothered by the world around him
Vingtus, still perched on the back of his truck chewing his burger, monitored the newcomer through his dark lenses. His eyes narrowed slightly...
The young man tossed an ice cream bar toward Bussy with pinpoint precision. The girl caught it instantly, a wide smile breaking across her face
He wheeled his massive big bike closer to the fuel pump, starting the refueling process with practiced ease, not waiting for a hand. He remarked in a voice that was simple, yet heavy with sincerity
Enchis
Don't you ever change jobs
Enchis
Bussy nodded, tearing open the ice cream wrapper and popping it into her mouth.
She hummed in response, savoring the icy sweetness amidst the heavy fumes of gasoline
The young man stared at the fuel trickling into the tank as he continued
Enchis
Save up as much as you can from a job like this...
Enchis
Then get yourself to Avaliland
Vingtus sat motionless on the back of his truck. The sheer weight of this conversation made him pause mid-chew
The biker pulled the nozzle out and clicked the fuel cap shut, before uttering a final sentence in a voice dripping with pity for the city's fate
Enchis
In a place as unequal as this... flowers never truly bloom.
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