Highest Rank: #144 in Adventure. He was 18-years-old when his father died. He was also 18-years-old when he received his powers, one of which was the ability to manipulate metal.
After running into the city of Politum, Tyzon Foster is kidnapped by...
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Once we reached his room, I did not know what I was in for, but I was looking forward to my new home after I saw Eric visibly entering a code on a pad next to the doorknob, which was a fascinating piece of security for what I thought was going to be an equally impressive home, if not better. After Eric finished with the number pad, he then drew a web-like pattern on the touchscreen with his finger. Though the pattern seemed simple, I did not expect to need it in the future and so I did not put much effort into remembering it.
As he completed all the security checks, a whirr sound was made, leading me to believe that the door in front of me must have been one hell of a barrier. However, more impressively, Eric's room was one of the places that was surprisingly really hygienic and sanitary, so sleeping there should be a privilege. The level of cleanliness in Eric's room was not the only reason that made staying in his room a treat, for the fact that this room was the only one with a roof made the experience much cozier and more comfortable, as I was able to maintain my privacy.
Eric's room had to have a roof otherwise there would be no point of having that much security, for it would have just been a roofless cubicle with a redundant lock on its door which anyone could climb over, especially since it was only a two-meter tall wall. Though the interior of most of the rooms were off-putting, these gangsters could actually organize and arrange rooms for their individual selves, to my surprise; however, Eric was the leader so he had to have his own luxurious enclosed room. "After you," he invited me in as he closed the door, which made that thunk sound only the dropping of an anvil could make.
I looked around and after observing the tremendously clean white-tiled floor, I only found one single bed. "I hope that you're not getting the wrong idea here," I said to him.
"Kid, I haven't had sleep in two years, so don't worry," Eric told me, whilst he typed ferociously on the five different keyboards leading to his five different computers.
"Well then, why do you even have a bed?" I asked, trying to rat him out.
"Just don't ask," he evaded.
As he updated his five different computers, which made him look busier than a city's four-way intersection, I looked through a window only to see the banner of Langatory Industries from the inside. This reminded me of my earlier contemplation of why Eric had sought refuge here. I wanted to start a conversation so I asked Eric, "You do know that this is a Langatory facility you are living in right?"
"Sure," he answered in the most offhand manner.
"What are you, high? Wouldn't Vernon find out that you're living in one of his facilities, especially a group of teenage hooligans?" I questioned with the urge to be correct, and to prove Eric's egotistical self that he should worry more about these problems.
"You still think Vernon gives a shit about this place?" he scoffed, "But you probably want to know how this place went tits up. Well, since you agreed to join the Silver Gang, I guess I can tell you the history of us, but don't you ever call me high again," he shut down his collection of computers then sat down on a chair andfilled a glass of water bizarrely in a desert, despite my previous shower. While he was talking, he kindly offered me one and, of course, I took it for I was dehydrated, which I assumed was another symptom from the drug.
