The silence was broken only by the sound of dripping.
*Drip...* Drops slowly decorated the stone floor of the dark alley.
They were not drops of blood. Nor were they tears.
"…"
It was cold sweat, slowly running down his back and onto the floor.
He knelt and peered into the alley's darkness.
"Nobody…" he whispered.
In the alley where the mother and son had turned a few seconds ago, there was not a single living soul…
But still, there was something there.
"..." He tried to steady his trembling legs and pushed himself to his feet.
Taking a couple of steps, he bent down and picked up the object.
"Tony..." he whispered the boy's name.
It was the very same lollipop.
All that remained of the child he had seen just a few seconds ago was the lollipop.
The only proof that he and his mother had ever existed.
In this dark alley, the city of Concord revealed its true nature.
"Ha... Ha... Ha..." He began to breathe rapidly.
He didn't know what it was: a panic attack, fear, rage, or the beginnings of hysterical laughter.
His metal fist clenched and unclenched angrily. He had no goal, and it was unlikely that anything could be done. His fist just wanted to vent his emotions.
Strangely enough, he found a suitable target on one of the brick walls of the alley.
It was something like graffiti, but it didn't appear to have been created by a street artist.
The upper body of a man in a cloak was painted on the wall. He wore a large hat on his head, and a hand with long fingers peeked out from under the collar of his cloak.
He was putting his index finger to his lips, making a gesture of silence.
The graffiti repeated the outline of the very statue that Mr. Nobody had encountered in the first minutes of his stay in this world.
"Big Brother is watching you," read the inscription under the graffiti.
"…" His eye began to twitch.
He couldn't describe his feelings, just as he couldn't take his eyes off those half-closed eyes...
And that damn wide smile.
"FUUCK!!!"
*Crash!!!* A metal fist slammed into the brick wall where the graffiti was painted.
...
There were no witnesses in the alley.
"…" Only a surveillance camera hidden in a dark corner.
The red light flashing on it resembled the blood-red eye of a predatory creature.
A predator playfully watches its prey from ambush.
The camera watched the assault on the graffiti and the brick wall from start to finish.
Its gaze never left him.
…
Marcel greeted Mr. Nobody's return, timidly fiddling with an advertising brochure.
"Well...?"
He walked, brushing the remains of stone chips off his metal hand. His head was bowed, and his eyes were fixed on the lollipop in his left hand.
"..." Hearing the old man's voice, he raised his head and simply shook his head.
"I see..."
They could have talked about what had happened for hours, but they just remained silent.
Some things are better left unsaid.
Some things are better left unknown.
After a while, people began to fill the pedestrian street again. And although there was a hint of apprehension on their faces, they didn't seem too shaken.
"As if nothing had happened..." he commented.
He no longer wanted to stay here a minute longer.
Turning to his bracelet, he pressed a couple of buttons and gave Paymax the necessary instructions.
And then, after just ten seconds...
*Vroom!* The roar of an engine could be heard.
A futuristic black motorcycle pulled up to where he and Marcel were standing.
'Neocorp' A small neon logo in acid green, glowed on the black metal.
Of course, this violated the rules of the pedestrian walkway, but it didn't seem like anyone cared right now.
The silent Paymax was responsible for autopiloting and delivering the vehicle.
While Marcel was once again impressed, he put the suitcase with the suit in the small trunk at the back of the motorcycle.
The case with the sniper rifle was too long, so he had to strap it to the bike itself. It would be a little awkward to drive, but it was the only way.
"Haa..." He sighed and adjusted a slider on his bracelet.
While his assistant's voice was reactivated, he leaned on the bike and took out his cigarette case.
Taking out a long cigarette, he clicked his metal fingers and lit it. It was unusual, but his metal hand really did have a mini lighter built into it. However, that wasn't the only thing that limb had concealed...
"Did you change the wheels to off-road ones?" he asked, taking a drag.
"Your request has been fulfilled," the advanced intelligence replied neutrally.
Over the years, he had managed to repair Paymax, and now switching modes was no problem. But what was strange was that turning off the "friendly" mode had almost no effect on the Paymax projection itself — the hologram of the planet. It seemed to silently challenge him.
"Phew..." he exhaled smoke. "Tony and Modak Summers..."
"Should I remotely add these names to your list?" Paymax asked proactively.
"No need... When I get back, I'll do it myself."
By this time, Marcel had already recovered from seeing the cool motorcycle.
"Damn, man, is this another one? How much do you get paid anyway?!"
"Hah..." he chuckled dryly. "Like it? It's the newest model. I haven't tested it yet, but they say it can go up to 400 kilometers per hour."
"Damn, it looks amazing..."
While Marcel was looking at the motorcycle, he finished his cigarette.
Stamping out the butt, he put on a dark motorcycle jacket and a solid black helmet.
"By the way... What happened to your three previous bikes? Did you sell them?"
"Um..." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Something like that. Consider it a contribution to the development of the city's industry."
The truth was somewhat different, but it seemed wrong to upset the old man any further.
"Oh..."
Finishing his preparations, he climbed onto the motorcycle and was ready to go.
Southville was considered part of the city's outskirts, so it was only a short ride to the first checkpoint.
"Haa..." He sighed heavily in his helmet and glanced at the old man. "What is it?"
Marcel shifted awkwardly from foot to foot and kept glancing toward that very alley. He seemed to want to say something.
"You know, what happened there... I have a son too. I keep thinking, what if something like that happened to him? Would I just stand there or hide like the rest of them?"
"Uncle Marcel..."
The old man waved his hands vigorously, not letting him finish.
"You know, I don't think I said anything wrong. It's really over for us... But you're different. I saw it, and now... I know it."
The old man's blue eyes searched his through the dark visor.
"What are you..."
"People need hope... They need to know someone will come for them." He held his gaze.
"..."
Without giving him a chance to object, Marcel put the advertisement in his trunk.
"Good luck with the gig, Mr. Nobody... Don't take too many risks and come back safe this time."
Marcel patted him on the back and smiled.
"..."
Not knowing what to say, he twisted the throttle.
*Vroooom!!!* The engine roared.
The tires screeched on the asphalt and carried him away.
Those very words and the old man's kind gaze still lingered in his mind.
He couldn't answer him — not because he couldn't find the words…
But because right now he was about to risk his life twice as hard as usual.
To feel alive, he would dance along the edge once more.