Star in the Streets

Chapter 5

'Both of ya back again' says The Gunman. As he views Dolus and Kylons documents.

'of course, we're just following orders from our bosses' says Kylon. A lie he often tells.

'Does it involves watching Billy Sanders fight tonight?' asks The Gunman

'Never Sir, we've been sent to gather materials from the Low Street vendors' says Dolus. Another obvious lie.

'You boys are gonna regret going down there one day, that place is not a playground, it's dangerous. You two just don't seem to understand that' The Gunmen gives them back their passports. 'You're clear to go through, hope you learn a lesson or two whilst ya down there'

'See you next time, Mr?' asks Kylon. Try to attain the Gunman's name

'Move along!' says the Gunman.

'Yes Sir' says Dolus. He pushes Kylon forward, fearing the repercussions of Kylon's inquisitiveness.

Kylon and Dolus move past the gunmen and approach the checkpoint Barrier. A steel bar stretches across, five meters long and five inches wide, enough to obstruct any rouge vehicles looking to cross the checkpoints. On each side stand two walkways, each occupied by armed personnel, ready to apprehend any antagonists. One person per passageway, making it a solitary endeavour when crossing the checkpoint. Dolus goes Left, while Kylon goes Right, and as Kylon approaches the crossing, he receives glares of hatred from the armed personnel.

The guys must get a kick out of holding those guns I swear. They just sit on their asses all day, talking, smoking, drinking away whilst on the job. Hypocrites, I bet half of them head down to Low Street after work. They stand here acting as some kind of buffer against lawlessness. Yet, they themselves are feeding their desires, drowning in pleasure. it's no secret that the night guards always demand a bride for re-entry into Middle Street. I usually have nothing to offer them, even if I did, I wouldn't give it to them anyway. Those pricks are just as bad as the Area Boys.

Well, maybe not. The Northern Boys are ruthless. I heard they like to take people's fingers off if they aren't able to pay what's demanded, then escalating to entire limbs. The whole of Low Street is just a big bowl of Anarchy. Money is the only thing holding it together; gangs, clubs, and the Arena exist for money. Most people know the Low Street is just a dirty playground for any who have some cash in their pockets. Its residents, who are the prisoners of our society, have no choice but to survive using any means necessary. Most chose the factories, others the illicit establishments, the rest become Area Boys.

Gran and Gramps think I don't understand the dangers out Here. Whose irresponsible enough to want to be a part of this gutter. The truth is I come here to make myself strong. To ensure I'm not defeated when life takes a swing at me. the reason I go to Low Street is to learn Boxing.  

the energy and tension which fills the ring just before a fight is intoxicating, more euphoric than any drug. Triumph or defeat­– the outcome is in my hands. As I rush into battle, I become a dragon who seeks to destroy all within my domain. 

That moment Is what I live for. Dol shows his support in his own way. I've never known him not to rat me out I started training two years ago. He got this idea of me fighting in the ring and him placing bets on me during the fight. he's a compulsive gambler, I've seen him bet away pieces of his clothing and making some absurd claims about feeling the flow of fighting­. He is lucky I'm one on his side! The number of times I've saved his ass is unbelievable, but he's always had my back, so I always make sure to return the favour. we go way back, becoming friends after meeting in-state school, he's still the loudmouth he was back then, using that silver tongue of his to push peoples' buttons.

Dols just chasing after the same thing everyone is in Low Street. Money. if you follow the money, you usually find it... but you better have a loaded gun with you just in case. That's my motto, the street always has this dark aura around it like theirs an Axe hanging over your head, and should you make the wrong move it will come hurling down. Theirs an old saying, "theirs only two kinds of people in low Street, Victims and Culprits," I always make sure I'm not the victim. 

've been seeing results in my training lately, now I'm thinking about having my first bare-knuckle fight down in West End. Training leaves me covered in bruises and cut, but what doesn't break you makes you stronger, although I wish I don't have to lie to Gran, I usually tell her I got it from a fight at the bookies. Well, I guess it's not a complete lie, just a half-truth if there is such a thing. 

The lie is mercy. She dreads conflict, especially combat, she and Gramps fled Archaea because of it. The battle between the clans of archaea left a scar on them, enough so to never want to talk about it and how my parents died. One day they'll both understand, I have the soul of a warrior.