Chapter 2

Zandro

Since when did he have a chance to talk to anyone except at his part-time job? The last time someone approached him was two years ago when he was circled by a group of boys in his classroom while he was eating his packed lunch. 

"Hey! Your lunch stinks! We almost puked! Why the hell your parents prepare you raw bloody meat? Don't they know how to cook?"

"That meal was better though. Yesterday, I saw him eating rotten food in the street!" 

"Yuck! His family is disgusting! This is why no one wants to befriend you!" 

"Yeah! We hate you! Families of disgusting criminals!" 

Zandro came home crying on that day, blaming his parent's way of living. Since that day, that group of boys was sent into the hospital, beaten by his older brother. And that just complicated his life more, when people started avoiding him, making him feel as if he didn't exist.

Maybe his parents were right. People will just treat him shit no matter what adjustment he makes, so it's better to continue living their way in freedom, than treated like shit while slaves by their own laws. 

~

"What made you come early today, kid? Have no classes today?" The man in a brown thick uniform asked him, an insignia of an owl with hat patched on his chest, an identification badge that he was serving as Civil Guard, in the Bureau of Investigation. The four stars pinned on his shoulder indicate rank as Colonel. He was busy fixing the papers on his office table. "I thought it's just your second day of class. Something happened in your school? Was there a terrorist attack too or something? But no one filed a report to me."

Zandro, head always bowed down, gently closed the wooden door of the office, wearing his black fitted shirt with brown sleeves the same as the color of his tactical pants. He averted his gaze. "N-Nothing happened, Sir."

The officer paused for a moment to glance up behind his reading glass. He creased his forehead. "You skipped the class, did you?"

Zandro flinched.

The officer leaned on his chair to relax for a moment. "You said you're excited because you were promoted in A section, right? Then what are you doing here? Your part-time job here should be on weekends." He focused back on his work.

Zandro didn't move, letting a moment of silence pass the clicking arms of the wall clock.

"Oh, I almost forgot you're still standing there." The officer dialed his telephone. "Asset #57 wants to work today… Okay." He hung up the phone. "There's a hostage bombing incident in the bicycle shop near the Gazian High School. They're now surrounding the area but unable to move or else, you know what would happen next. And right, your ability is a perfect asset for sneaking, especially, they won't expect someone your age to be working with authority. This is why the Kingdom permits our department to hire young part-timers despite the dangerous nature of the job."

Zandro's knees trembled upon hearing the name of the school. "I hope no one in the school would see me," he whispered in his mind. 

In order to blend with surroundings, the officer advised him to wear his school uniform. More reason to hide himself from his classmates and teachers or they would mark him cutting class. Even if the Civil Guard has the power to request him to be excused in class due to his duty, people could come up with negative misunderstanding considering his clan's bad reputation.

Zandro rode through the horse carriage. Just when he dismounted in the back of the alley, he heard the commotion.

"I repeat! I will only let go of him until he confesses what he stole from my dear brother! Or else, I will demolish this shop by myself!" Followed by a maniac laugh echoed through from her speaker, sending shivers to everyone's spine.

Zandro peered over the walls, the sunlight streamed into the store, illuminating rows of bicycles and mechanical parts. There standing a woman with brown short hair, wearing a lapel and goggles covering her eyes full of darkness. Her body was coated in a white bustle skirt wrapped with a brown corset ornamented with clocks and cogs, coupled with her leather braces. 

She held a switch connected to the bombs wrapped around the man in a coat who seemed to be the owner of the bicycle shop. She pointed the bomb to the Civil Guards surrounding him, commanding the attention of the civilians crowded at a safe distance, including students and teachers from the nearby school.

"Don't try to make something fishy out there! Trust me, I love making surprises!"

"I didn't even know you and your brother! What are you saying?" the man cried.

Zandro stuck his tongue in the air, flicking as he read the taste of the air, focusing on the sulfuric scent. He imagined red smokes linked to the bombs in the man's body, around the shop, and also under the woman's skirt as well. That might be the surprise she was saying–a suicide bombing.

"It's getting boring! He still doesn't want to admit it! Oh, right! We have plenty of audience out there! Let's see, why don't we play a game while waiting! Hmm… What kind of game do you think is fun?"

Carefully, Zandro sneaked around until he went to the backside of the store. Bomb making skills were always accompanied by making traps, and he was trained to decipher it. Traps commonly used mechanical mechanisms through metals and wires or fabric strings. But the metallic scent was also everywhere since it was a bike shop. Though, only wind chimes were supposed to be installed above the doors but not in backdoors. So the metals above he was sensing was a trap. It might activate a bomb once the door opens, or might be just an alarm.

He scanned the building. There were wooden windows within the brick walls and one was the bathroom. There was no single scent of metals or sulfur inside. He just needs to destroy it silently.

Back to the commotion, the woman jumped in excitement. "I know! I know! I know what kind of games we would play! Any volunteers? I need a player!" 

The Civil Guards looked at each other, sweat running through their forehead.

"Huh? No one wants to play? Aww. Don't be shy! I know you want it too! Hmm… Let's see. You! Yes! You over there! Come here and play!"

One of the Civil Guard glanced at his surroundings in hesitation. 

"You will come or I'll press this button?"

"I'm coming!"

The woman wrapped him in bombs and gave him a typewriter connected to it. "Guess what will be our first game? It's a Time-Bomb Quiz! Don't worry, you can ask for help from the crowd if you don't know the answer!"

Their Lieutenant rushed near them.

The woman squeaked out. "Who said you can move!" 

The Lieutenant immediately stopped. "I just came in front so he could hear my help in answering questions!"

The woman wiped her forehead and sighed, "Phew."

The Lieutenant clenched his grip on his sword as he whispered in his mind. "Zandro, I'll try to make distractions to buy time. It's a shame as an officer to count with a mere sixteen years old kid but, we're all counting on you."

The Lieutenant raised his hand. "Miss beautiful! I have a question!"

The criminal blushed. "Oh, dear. Don't call me that way, please. W-What is your question?"

"Do you already have a boyfriend?" 

She creased her forehead. "Hey. Don't make a fool of me! I know what you are doing! You're just distracting me and will suddenly make something fishy! Compliment people until you get their trust and strike their back!" She pointed to the man. "That's what this man did to my brother!"

"I knew it! I have no charisma with girls!" he cursed in his mind, "Now I just made things worse! Sorry Zandro, I can't help you anymore. I'm such a failure officer!"

"I really don't know what you are talking about!" the owner cried again, "Please at least tell me what happened to your brother!" 

"Oh," her mood suddenly switched differently, turning back the excitement, "You're intelligent! You guessed what our quiz was all about! It's all about my brother! First question, who owns the first bicycle factory in Adiutrix City?"

The hostaged Civil Guard nervously looked at the people around, seeking for an answer. The time is ticking. 10…9…8…

"I remember! It's the Kright family!" the owner answered and spelled the name, "K.R.I.G.H.T."

The quiz player quickly typed it and the lights turned to green. "That's correct! The Kright family owned the first bicycle factory! Next question: When did their company close?"

10…

The Lieutenant raised his hand. "I read that case! The murder of the Kright family! It was 1889 so their company closed after their deaths!"

The player wrote the numbers and it rang in thin pitch with green light. "Ding, ding, ding! Correct! A little trivia, it's not that the whole family had died though, they left two poor little children. Imagine how they live only by themselves? Such a tragic story." She wiped his cheeks as if wiping tears.

"Now, let's go to the final round! If you answer this right, maybe I could let the owner live as well and feel free to arrest me!"

The crowd of Civil Guards looked at each other, exchanging gestures.

"Now: who invented the Kright Flyer?" Kright Flyer refers to the first air vehicle invented ten years ago that was now operated by private companies for royalties, riches and marked an evolutionary leap to the Imperial's Air Force.

"K-Kright Flyer?" the player asked, "Wasn't it supposed to be a Dutchel Flyer?"

The woman's face suddenly changes, a furious look devouring her eyes. "Dutchel? You dare to change our last name just because it sounds evil?"

She went into a rage, much like a child in a tantrum. "This typewriter quiz activator is actually fake! But now that you mentioned something terrible, you deserve to disappear in this world! Let me send you all to the skies!" She was about to press the button when a knife struck in her nape and she fell down. Zandro was above, crawling over the ceiling filled with strings of traps that remained untouched. 

While in the back, Zandro synchronized the woman's loud voice in breaking the windows and opening doors. The alarms in the bathroom door have triggered slightly but she was too distracted when the emotion got her.

-inkofdeath