[center][color=slategray][h3]Alek[/h3][/color][/center]
Neo Tokyo might be just the furthest thing from the broken lands up North, but on days like these, when blood ran cold on the pavement and bloodlust flared hot in the pit of his stomach, he could almost draw parallels. 

Alek flipped over the lifeless body with the tip of his boots, then he leaned over to feel for a pulse. None. Just the silence of a corpse and rapidly cooling skin. Well, then that translated to a job well done. He turned and left, firing off a text to let his client know of the finished deed. Moments later, a soft ping indicated that money had been transferred into his account. A decent amount, but still far less than what he was used to back in his corporate days. The poor bastard was barely worth the bullet he wasted. 

But that was just life sometimes, it seemed. The wind howled, and then it calmed. And Alek kept on moving. 

He traversed on foot, turning corners quickly and weaving through shortcuts that he had learned by heart in his short time in this city. Technically, he didn’t have to keep taking on contracts now that he was in a gang, and usually there would be steady work there. But he disliked dependence, and he disliked subordination even more. He knew all too well how the hand that fed could also strike, and it was the height of ignorance to work without a backup plan.

Plus, spending money was nice. There was a glass of whiskey somewhere calling his name. 

There was a meeting he had to attend first, however.

The bar was easy to find. When Alek was sure that he wasn’t being followed, he hopped onto the roof of the building and let himself in through one of the windows in the back. It was just his preference; the front door was just too crowded, sometimes. He took a moment to check his reflection in the dusty glass, just to make sure he looked presentable. Old habits died hard. 

Satisfied, he made his way down to the bar and weaved through the crowd of patrons. The atmosphere seemed just a touch more excitable than usual, and there was this tangy, rusted scent on the air, beneath all the heady stench of human bodies. 

Someone had been fighting. Interesting. He wondered, briefly, what the old wolf been up to. 

When he past by the bar, he reached over to pluck a bottle from the shelf and an accompanying glass. The bartender saw, but the man knew better than to comment on it. Alek only smiled, a tight-lipped, fleeting thing, before he turned to make his way toward the gang’s base of operation downstairs. 

Hopefully it would be something fun this time.