Chapter 5

  POV: Nobody

  Dr. Melinda’s advice to move on stuck with me. Chasing fragments of my lost past had only led to frustration, so I decided it was time to focus on building a new life. One way I did that was by picking up an old hobby—playing fighting games. It was one of the few things I remembered enjoying, a small but comforting piece of familiarity.

  Every Sunday, I made it a point to visit the local arcade. It was like stepping back into a simpler time, filled with the clinking of coins, electronic beeps, and the occasional cheer of players celebrating a hard-fought victory. The place was dimly lit, with neon lights flickering in the corners and the faint smell of popcorn and soda hanging in the air.

  The fighting game section was where I felt most at home. Rows of machines lined the walls, each featuring colorful characters and fast-paced combat. I gravitated toward the classics—Street Fighter, Tekken, Mortal Kombat. They felt like old friends, familiar even through the haze of my missing memories.

  Hours would slip by as I hunched over the controls, my fingers flying across the buttons. Pulling off combos and special moves gave me a rush, a sense of normalcy in a life that felt anything but. It was my escape, a ritual that let me leave behind the complexities of the world outside, even if only for a while.

  One Sunday, I found myself locked in a match with one of the arcade’s regulars. He was tall and lanky, with messy hair and a grin that practically screamed confidence. Everyone knew him as “Raven,” a player notorious for his aggressive playstyle.

  “Ready for another beating?” he teased, his fingers already poised over the buttons.

  “We’ll see about that,” I replied, smirking.

  The match started, and a small crowd began to gather around us. The sounds of our characters clashing on the screen mixed with the murmurs of onlookers. Raven came at me hard, but I wasn’t about to back down.

  As the game heated up, I slipped into a familiar habit. I activated my power, discarding my emotions and moving my character with machine-like precision. It gave me an edge, but I caught myself before it went too far. I didn’t want to rely on my abilities for something as simple as a game. Taking a deep breath, I forced my power down and focused on playing purely with skill.

  Raven was relentless, but I held my ground, countering his attacks and landing my own strikes. The match dragged on, each round more intense than the last. The crowd cheered and gasped with every combo, their energy fueling my determination.

  “Come on, you’ve got this!” someone shouted from the sidelines.

  In the final round, I managed to execute a flawless combo, draining Raven’s health bar and clinching the win. The crowd erupted into applause as the game announced my victory.

  “Not bad, not bad at all,” Raven said, grinning as he extended a hand. “You’ve got skills.”

  “Thanks,” I replied, shaking his hand. “You’re not too shabby yourself.”

  We ended up chatting for a while, trading tips and tricks. Raven introduced me to a few other regulars, and for the first time in a long while, I felt like I belonged somewhere.

  When I first came to this world, I’d hoped for some kind of cheat—a hidden power, a secret mentor, or even a grand destiny. None of that happened. Instead, I was just another face in the crowd, powerless and adrift. It had taken time, but I’d learned to adapt. I stopped waiting for miracles and started finding joy in the small things, like winning a match or sharing a laugh with someone like Raven.

  “Hey, want to play air hockey?” Raven asked, his grin widening.

  “Sure,” I said, matching his enthusiasm.

  We moved to the air hockey table, the neon lights reflecting off its polished surface. Gripping the paddles, we exchanged competitive grins. Raven served first, sending the puck flying toward me with practiced precision.

  The game was fast-paced, the puck zipping back and forth as we traded goals. Raven scored first, pumping his fist in triumph.

  “Gotcha!” he exclaimed.

  “Nice shot,” I admitted, resetting the puck. “But don’t get too comfortable.”

  We bantered as we played, the crowd around us cheering and laughing. By the end, Raven won by a single point. Both of us were breathless and grinning, the intensity of the match leaving us exhilarated.

  “That was close,” I said, wiping sweat from my forehead. “You’ve gotten better.”

  “You too,” Raven replied, clapping me on the back. “Let’s grab a drink. My treat.”

  At the concession stand, Raven’s eyes lit up as he scanned the menu. “Zorange, please!” he said excitedly, pointing to the bright orange soda.

  I chuckled at his enthusiasm. “I’ll go with pineapple juice. Need the vitamin C to stay sharp.”

  Raven added a bag of snacks to the order, and we found a table to sit at.

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  We settled into our seats, the buzz of the arcade around us blending into a familiar symphony of beeping machines and laughter. Raven took a long sip of his Zorange, the bright orange liquid fizzing as he drank. His expression shifted, turning slightly serious as he set the can down.

  "Hey, real talk," he said, leaning forward. "What do you do for a living?"

  I hesitated, not because I was embarrassed, but because I wasn’t sure how he’d react. "I own a hotdog cart," I finally replied. "I’m saving up to buy a small truck, maybe turn it into a hotdog truck. But lately, I’ve been thinking about switching to an ice cream truck. I love ice cream, but it doesn’t exactly fill people up. So, I’ll probably stick with hotdogs."

  Raven’s eyes lit up with amusement, and he chuckled. "Oh, we’ve got ourselves a businessman here!"

  He tore open his snack’s wrapper wider and held it out to me, a friendly gesture. Inside were small, crispy prawn chips. I grabbed a handful and popped them into my mouth. They had a spicy kick, but nothing I couldn’t handle.

  "Thanks," I said through a mouthful of chips.

  "Greedy bastard," Raven said, laughing.

  "Hah! I’ll have you know," I replied, grinning, "I plan to own a fleet of mobile food trucks someday. Once I’m rich, I’ll treat you to these same snacks. How’s that for generosity?"

  Raven rolled his eyes playfully. "That’s a stupid dream. How much do you even make in a day?"

  I leaned back, thinking. "Two thousand credits on a bad day, three thousand on a good day, and six thousand on a very good day. And trust me, there are more ‘very good days’ than bad ones."

  Raven let out a low whistle, clearly impressed. "Damn, that’s not bad. I might’ve underestimated you."

  I couldn’t help but smile, a small sense of pride bubbling up. "It’s honest work. Gives me something to strive for."

  Raven took another sip of his Zorange, smirking. "Yeah, but it’s still chump change. Nothing big."

  I blinked, caught off guard by his bluntness. "Excuse me?"

  He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. His expression was contemplative, like he was about to impart some great wisdom. "Listen, my friend. If you want to grow your business, you need more capital. Kane City isn’t exactly forgiving to small-time entrepreneurs."

  I nodded slowly, his words hitting closer to home than I cared to admit. Since my arrival in this world, I’d been fighting tooth and nail to get by. Seven months had passed, and every step forward felt like pushing through quicksand.

  I remembered those early days vividly—the constant harassment from vagrants and low-level thugs trying to extort me or steal my earnings. Back then, I barely made enough to cover costs, let alone save. Every day was a battle, and every night, I wondered if I’d made the wrong choice in starting this business.

  But I’d endured. Slowly but surely, my efforts paid off. Now, I had some stability. My earnings were consistent, and I didn’t have to look over my shoulder every second. Yet, hearing Raven casually dismiss my hard work stung more than I wanted to admit.

  "You’re right," I said quietly, my tone subdued. "It hasn’t been easy. I’ve had to fight for every bit of success."

  Raven’s smirk softened into something more genuine. "I get it, man. This city’s a beast. It chews up guys like us and spits us out if we’re not careful. But you’ve got something most people don’t—drive. You just need to figure out how to get that capital."

  His words, though blunt, carried a surprising amount of encouragement. It was a reality check I hadn’t realized I needed.

  "I’ll figure it out," I said, my voice firm with determination. "I’ve made it this far, haven’t I?"

  Raven grinned, raising his Zorange in a mock toast. "Damn right. To making it big, then."

  I clinked my pineapple juice against his can, a small smile tugging at my lips. "To making it big."

  Raven leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "There’s a part-time job I know, and we’re short one guy, so—"

  I raised an eyebrow, cutting him off. "Is it legal?"

  Raven burst into laughter, waving off my concern as if it were a mere fly. "Of course, it’s legal. Pays good dough, too—ten thousand credits per delivery. Very generous, right? I know it sounds suspicious, but hear me out."

  A courier job that paid ten thousand credits per delivery? That was crazy! I could see the numbers in my head—if you delivered even once a day, you’d make 70K credits a week. It sounded too good to be true, and I wasn’t stupid enough to take everything at face value.

  I leaned back in my chair, trying to mask my skepticism. "Ten thousand credits per delivery? That’s insane. What’s the catch?"

  Raven’s grin widened, his confidence oozing from every pore. "No catch, just a bit of risk. The job involves delivering packages to various locations around the city. The packages are time-sensitive, and you need to be quick and discreet."

  Quick and discreet? I wasn’t an amateur. No matter how you spun it, this sounded like the kind of job you’d do for a shady organization. It was risky, and risk in Kane City often meant danger.

  I crossed my arms, narrowing my eyes. "Why me? Why do you need someone else?"

  Raven shrugged, unfazed by my wariness. "The usual guy bailed, and we need someone reliable. You’ve got the skills, and you’re trustworthy. Plus, you could use the extra cash, right?"

  He wasn’t wrong about one thing—the money would make a huge difference. Ten thousand credits could get me closer to my goal of owning a food truck. But the more I thought about it, the more I felt that gut feeling of doubt. I wasn’t desperate enough to risk my neck for easy cash.

  "What exactly are the packages?" I asked, my tone a mix of suspicion and curiosity.

  Raven’s face broke into a haughty smile, like he was about to share a secret no one else knew. "There is no package."

  I blinked, my confusion clear. "What?"

  "The ‘package’ itself is empty," Raven explained with a confident air, as if this made everything sound perfectly reasonable. "There isn’t much risk to it, really. Do you understand? In fact, there’s no risk at all! I told you, it isn’t illegal! It’s free money. As your good friend, I’m sharing the blessings with you. This is a rare opportunity, man. Slots fill up fast."

  I frowned, the whole thing sounding like a trap. "I’m flattered you thought of me, but no."

  Raven blinked, clearly taken aback. "What?"

  "I refuse," I said, my voice firm.

  Raven’s face darkened. For a moment, I saw a flash of anger in his eyes, the friendly mask slipping for just a second. He opened his mouth to argue, but then he seemed to think better of it. He closed his mouth, shaking his head slowly, as if realizing something.

  He must have known why I turned him down. Simple as it was, I wasn’t a fool. There was no such thing as a free lunch in this world—well, not the kind you got from people like Raven. Sure, maybe my mom would bring me a free lunch, but Raven? No way. This whole deal reeked of a scam.

  I stood up, my decision final. "Look, Raven. I’m not desperate enough to fall for this. If you need someone to do your dirty work, find someone else."

  Raven didn’t say anything at first, just stared at me for a long moment, as if waiting for me to change my mind. When I didn’t, he let out a small sigh and stood up as well. "Alright, man. I get it."

  But there was a shift in the air, something unspoken hanging between us. Raven wasn’t the type to let things go so easily, and I wasn’t the type to let anyone push me into something I didn’t want.

  That day, my friendship with Raven ended.