The XXX district was a cracked chunk of the city barely holding itself together. Graffiti-coated walls, flickering street lights, and a skyline made of rusted scaffolding and neon grime. Accelerator waited at Platform 3, standing just far enough from the vending machines to keep an eye on everything. A man eventually approached—stocky, shaved head, eyes constantly scanning.
"You the guy?" the man asked. Accelerator gave a slight nod. "Kenji?" "Yeah." Kenji looked him up and down. "You don't look like much. But whatever. I don't hire. I just connect people." He pulled out a cigarette, lit it, then handed over a crumpled business card. "Name's Giran. He's the one you talk to if you want work that pays, no questions. You didn't get his name from me." Accelerator took the card. Black ink. No logo. Just a number. "Call him. Be polite. Don't waste his time," Kenji said, already walking away. "You only get one shot."
Accelerator leaned against the alley wall and dialed the number. It rang twice. "Yeah?" The voice on the other end was gruff, relaxed—like the guy had just rolled out of bed with a cigarette already in his mouth. "I got your number from Kenji," Accelerator said. "I'm looking for work. No questions." A pause. "Kenji vouches for you?"
"He barely knows me." "Hmph. That honest streak's gonna get you killed." The man chuckled. "Name's Giran. I move things. People pay me to find folks who can move those things. You one of those folks?" "I can be." Another pause. Then a beep—Giran had just sent a pin to his location. "Show up in one hour. Wear something forgettable. You'll pick up a package and drop it off. That's it. You're not a hero, you're not a cop, you're not curious. You just walk."
Accelerator glanced down at the cracked screen, then spoke again. "I need papers too. ID. Something that'll pass casual checks. Maybe even a Quirk registration." Giran let out a low whistle. "You're either running from something big or dropped straight outta the sky." "Let's just say I'm new in town." "Hmph. Fine. Do the job right, and I'll see what strings I can pull. But those kinds of favors? They don't come cheap." "I'm not asking for charity." "Good," Giran said. "Because I don't do charity. I do business." Click.