"That is something that we can look into on our side, thanks for the heads up Cy." Robin said sitting at his desk on a call with some of the original Titan members. "I am sure that STAR Labs will have something public to cover it up, but we will see what we can find on the back end." Robin cycled his console through a couple screens of news and business articles as Cyborg signed off before continuing. "Beast Boy, I need your team to look into the images from the Watch Tower of the Congo Basin. It looks like there may be activity around an abandon mine that was closed off after Deathstroke withdrew. Recon and report back." He sent a few files to Beast Boy and then he too signed off. "Raven, if your team is settled in alright I would really like you to get with Zatanna on the project I sent you. Keep your distance, but I want a heads up if there are any more anomalies." She then signed off shortly after Robin's instruction. That would conclude Robin's review of the reports from the other Titan teams and their monthly briefing.
Powering down his console he leaned back in his desk chair. Looking over some miscellaneous papers and clippings on his desk, he stood up and looked over to "The Wall" as it had been termed in the past. The Wall was a large portion of one of the walls in his room that was covered with bits of news papers, pictures, and other documents that were connected with strings of various colors like a tydeid spiderweb. No longer used he kept it up more as a memento to the past successes of the team, and a way to keep vision. Looking over the various pages and plucking some of the strings he thought back on the days when he had last used this web of information now out of date. News articles about robberies, missing property and shipments, and some of sightings of monsters, while others were headlines of the teams victories. He found the most recent article on The Wall: a factory explosion headlined Titans Coordinate Sting to Apprehend Terrorist Cell the article talked about the efforts the team went through over the years to track down, expose, and attempt to apprehend the terrorist villain Deathstroke and those that worked with him. This article was five years old at this point and Robin had yet to hear anything of Deathstroke. the next news article in line with that was one of the Titans recruiting new members with the help of the JLA and splitting up to seed new teams around the globe. The news clipping had a picture of the team; Robin, Starfire, Beast Boy, Raven, and Cyborg, standing shoulder to shoulder with other young meta humans. That was the last time the team had been all together.
Taking a step back from the wall he sighed. Has it really been that long?. Shaking his head he sat back in his chair a moment. He looked over some files on his computer, making sure everything he needed was in order. There were a series of files pertaining to various leads he had been keeping tabs on over the last few months along with some of the things from the other teams. Satisfied with what he had put together he closed the terminal and unplugged the drive, placing it in his bag he had been packing with other related notes and clippings. Looking at the organized chaos he had in there he sighed If there is on thing I wish I hadn’t picked up from the old man. He zipped the bag closed and threw it into his desk chair with a lazy thud. At least I wont ever be missing notes on a case with how I keep everything. Bruce had ingrained in him a sense of ‘everything is important at some point’ that lead him to always hold on to every lead and note in the event something else might connect back to it. Content with his packing for now, he set off to the common area of the Titan’s Tower to get some breakfast before calling a meeting together for the team get some weekly assignments and updates.

Trigger

London
2:37 A.M.

---

Rain battered the streets as a solitary figure made his way along the pavement. Trigger held his overcoat shut tight with one hand, and desperately used a newspaper to try and shield his hair from the downpour with the other. Fucking rain. Why did it always have to be rain. You spend ages getting your hair just right, and then, by some divine providence, the heavens decide to open up and ruin it completely. Anyway, look on the silver lining, it wouldn't be long until he could go home and lie down. He ducked into a greasy spoon diner, taking off his overcoat and hanging it on a coat stand as he escaped the cold night air.

Looking around the place you could see the type of people who usually frequented places like this around this part of town. Taxi drivers, travellers, and of course the obligatory drunk twenty-something passed out in the corner after a long night of not being able to handle his liquor. Unhealthy burger sat in front of him, half eaten and attracting flies.

Trigger sighed, making his way over to the counter and taking a seat on one of the stools. He glanced at his newspaper, now completely ruined, and gently tossed it onto the counter. It was definitely 'one of those days'. The attendant behind the counter approached him, disinterestedly asking what he would be having. A coffee and a full English breakfast would suffice. After all, it's breakfast time somewhere, right?

He sipped on his coffee. Unfortunately for the patrons of this diner, Trigger was there for business rather than pleasure. Not that the place was exactly pleasurable to begin with, but at least the coffee was hot. He muttered some words under his breath and in an instant his consciousness rose from his physical form and hung lazily in the air like cigarette smoke. He was certain of what he'd find, but if Constantine had taught him anything, it was that it was always better to be safe than sorry. His astral form floated through the bar and into the men's toilet. It was a good job he couldn't smell in this form, at least.

In the toilet, a skinny, wiry man wearing glasses was washing his hands, just as the door to one of the toilet stalls slowly opened, and Trigger's target emerged. A minor vampire had sprouted up and had been causing mischief in the past few weeks. It hadn't taken long for the apprentice magician to pick up his trail, especially with John's help. This had turned into a solo mission not long after, another of his wise teacher's tests he often liked to spring on the young Geordie. Trigger had tracked the creature to these toilets; he was an amateur, for sure, using the same modus operandi since he showed up in town, and the press had affectionately named the series of murders "The Greasy Spoon Spree".

He finished the spell and his consciousness returned to him. Drinking one last sip of coffee and straightening his suit jacket as he rose from his chair, he made his way to the toilet. Magical energy swirled around his hands as he braced himself against the door; the energy was an impossible thing to look at directly, like you were looking into another dimension of moving stars and dark colours. Suddenly, he burst through the door, whipping out the energy like a lasso and grabbing the vampire by the neck just as it was about to sink his teeth into the thin man. He reeled him in, placing his foot on the vampire's neck as it struggled beneath him.

"Honestly mate, I know the food isn't great here, but next time maybe try the salad?" Trigger mocked. The vampire snarled beneath him, grabbing his foot and using his unnatural strength to throw Trigger off him and back into the main dining area.

Trigger tumbled to the ground. Note to self: less quips, more incapacitation next time. Before he had time to get his bearings, the vampire had leapt out of the toilet, snarling and aiming for Trigger's throat, its claws slashing at the air as he dove towards him. The magician barely had time to react but quickly created a small shield around his arm just before the creature could go at his throat. His brow furrowed; this was getting to be a lot stickier than he'd initially planned. As the vampire swiped and snarled at him, Trigger managed to get his foot on the creatures hip and in one quick movement grabbed it by the hair, rolled back and kicked it off to the other end of the room. He rolled to his feet, keeping his shield up as he sent eldritch blasts towards his foe as he walked closer. The vampire dodged each of the blasts and leapt at Trigger again, which he expected and narrowly managed to avoid. Ranged attacks weren't working; the creature was too fast. Trigger would need to resort to some up close and personal means of attack. His eyes darted to his right, his coffee and plate of food still lay on the counter. Fuck it. If he was good at two things, it was improvising and fighting dirty.

The vampire spun around to face him, and was met with some scalding hot coffee in his face. As it screamed it tried desperately to wipe the liquid from its eyes. Just as it managed to regain its vision it caught sight of the last thing it expected to see: a full plate of sausage, bacon, eggs, beans, and all that other good stuff that made up Triggers nations favourite breakfast. The full English hit the vampire square in the face, stunning it again, allowing Trigger to slide on his knuckle dusters and send a hard punch to its mouth, knocking out one of its fangs in the process. His magic shield morphed into a lasso once more as Trigger sent a hard hook to the side of the vampires face, spinning it around and giving him the opportunity to tie its hands together in a makeshift pair of magical handcuffs. He sent one last hard punch to the vampires temple, knocking it out and causing it to slump the floor.

Trigger looked around. Unsurprisingly the place had cleared out during the scuffle. More surprisingly, though, was that the drunk twenty-something was still snoring in the corner, albeit now he had slumped over and was using a piece of toast as a pillow. Trigger grinned, maybe tonight wasn't so bad after all. He gazed at the obligatory 'No Smoking' sign that hung on the wall as he removed his pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket and lit one. Maybe not the classiest move, but he definitely needed a smoke after that dogfight.

"Didn't you see the sign, pal?" Spoke a voice from the corner, sipping on a cup of tea. A figure Trigger hadn't seen on his survey. He'd have said it was an impossible for him to miss in such a small area, but the past few years had taught him nothing was impossible.

"They should hang a 'No Vampire Attacks' one right next to it, I'm sure it would do just as good a job at stopping that too." He joked, grinning. The figure rose to his feet, and the signature bleach blonde hair and tan raincoat of John Constatine came into view.

"Yeah very funny, Trigger. Good job with the vampire by the way, I didn't realise they were weak to sunlight, garlic, and undercooked rashers of bacon, that is definitely one for the notebook." Trigger groaned at his joke, and moreso the fact that he had seen his improvised 'weapon'.

"Yeah yeah, enough taking the piss. Did I pass your test then, old man?" He replied. Constantine chuckled.

"Yeah you passed alright. But that's not why I'm here I've got big news for you. Ever wanted to visit America?"

"I'd prefer Berlin or Spain, but can't complain about a free holiday. Why are we heading out there?"

"We aren't heading out anywhere. This is a solo mission, Trig. One that might last a while. Robin has put out feelers to recruit a new set of Titans, and I volunteered your skillset and sunny disposition."

Triggers heart dropped a bit when John broke the news to him. His usual confident bravado weakening a bit to let his inner insecurity through. He was still relatively new to this superhero business, and he'd just made a number of mistakes handling one vampire. What use could a team like the Titans have for him?

"The Titans? Why am I joining them? Did I do something wrong here? Look I know using breakfast foods as a weapon isn't the most conventional thing, but it's hardly an excuse to send me halfway across the world, John." He pleaded.

Constantine's expression softened, understanding etched in his features. "Look kid, it's nothing personal. I like you and you're a great help to me here, but I'm worried about you too. It's not like you have many other friends to hang about with and I'm not much company for a young guy like yourself, I thought it would be good for you to meet some other people your age."

"Ouch, thanks John, way to make me feel like a loser. It's kind of hard to have a social life when you're constantly moving about fighting this weeks next big demon. And it's not like I don't have friends back in Newcastle!"

"I know, I know kid. But that's exactly why I thought this would be a good idea. You see those guys back in Newcastle how much? Maybe once or twice a year? What happens when they settle down and have kids? You join the Titans and you'll be used to the best of your abilities and get the chance to socialise outside of sitting in bars all night. Plus, when I was your age I was going at it alone too, it might be good for your magical development." Trigger thought on John's words. He was probably right, as much as Trigger hated to admit it.

---

Titan Tower
Jump City

---

Trigger woke up slowly and stared at the ceiling. This was a long way away from home that was for sure. The past while had been a blur. Moving to Jump City, joining the Titans, and settling in all happened so quickly. He hadn't realised it until now but he had even gotten used to hearing the American accent more than just when he watched TV. He sighed, thinking about home. If he could even call it that. His home had been wherever the next supernatural threat had been. But at least it was somewhere vaguely familiar. He didn't feel so different back home, but here he could barely go outside without someone commenting on his accent, always reminding him of how different he felt here. He looked around his room. He'd tried to make it feel like home as much as possible, but it was no easy task for him to get settled in one place. A few posters decorated his walls, and a picture of him and Constantinte sat on his windowsill. He hadn't realised how much he'd have missed the old bugger. He'd never properly said it to him, but he had really became something of a father figure to Trigger since they met. It was strange being out in the world on his own. Coincidentally, Trigger's phone buzzed next to him as he had these thoughts. It was John, texting him to check in with how he's been getting settled, and sending a photo of the latest demon he'd done battle with. Trigger would text back later, right now he was craving nicotine.

He crawled out of bed and after a quick shower got dressed. A pair of black jeans, white trainers and a t-shirt would do for now. He slid a packet of cigarettes into his pocket and headed out of his room. Glancing around the hallway and listening out he could see that for once in his life he was the first one up. He hadn't been taking to the time difference too well that was for sure.

He put in a pair of earphones and headed up to the roof. Leaning out over the city he gazed at the giant skyscrapers piercing the horizon. Slipping a cigarette into his mouth he flicked his thumb like a lighter and a small magical flame, flickered its way into existence above it. He held it up to the cigarette and lit it, shaking his hand to get rid of the fire. It was some city that was for sure, like nothing he had ever seen. His eyes traced the massive bridge stretching into the mainland. He wondered what his life would have been like here if he was an average person. What job he might have had and where he might have been at this exact moment. Definitely not smoking off the top of Titan Tower that was for sure. He still hadn't properly explored the city other than the times they'd been on mission. He scratched his nose with his thumb and flicked his finished cigarette off the tower.

Heading back down to the common area, he decided to start on breakfast. He flicked on the TV and the ever more familiar face of Sam Ansel came to life on the screen. Trigger listened half-heartedly to the news as he began to cook. It wasn't long into this task that he heard footsteps approaching and turned over his shoulder to see, Robin entering through the door. He grinned, turning to him and jokingly saluting him.

"Reporting for duty, Captain. What's the battle plan for today?" He joked "Seen any of the rest of the gang this morning? It's not like me to be an earlier riser I won't lie, chief."

Vera Agathe Faust

The loud ringing of her alarm woke Vera. She was covered in sweat and looked petrified. If one were to call it that, the dream would be more like a nightmare. In this dream, she was floating above the city. Tethered by some invisible force, she was tugged forward to different locations. However, she couldn’t see who was pulling her along. She couldn’t see who was pulling; she could only see a shadowy figure walking around the city. Not hearing anyone speaking felt like she was listening to a conversation through a wall. The figure seemed to be talking to other shadowy figures. Vera couldn’t see what they were doing but felt it was not good. Suddenly, she could see fire burning, and it felt like she was close to the intense flames. This sensation seemed to be mostly felt on her hands.

Shaking her head, trying to forget about her dream, she got out of bed and got ready for work. Vera headed out of her apartment and towards her car. Listening to the radio while heading off to work, she sang along to her favourite song. The song brought back good memories of singing along as a child, and listening to music was probably the only good memory of her childhood. Parking her car in a relatively tight parking spot, she was greeted by a young man with strawberry-blonde hair when he entered the office. “Hi V, how are ya? Mr.Bianco wants to talk to you about something. Ya better go to his office before he blows his top.” This young man was named Jerry Offerman. He was a photographer for the Jump City Globe.

“Thanks, Jerry.” She smiled while walking into James Bianco, who was sitting in his chair. The middle-aged man was reading a newspaper and putting it down when he heard Vera entering the room.

“Eh, nice of you for coming into work. You are five minutes late.” Of course, James continued speaking before Vera could dispute this. “I got a scoop that there's some illegal stuff going on in the docks downtown. Please go and investigate it. Bring back any information and photos of what you can find. And ya better go quick before those jerks at the Daily Planet scoop up this story.” This sounded quite dangerous to Vera. There was a strong possibility if he was caught, she would be dead. However, if she did succeed in this investigation, she could have the opportunity to move up in her career. She was momentarily thinking about her opinions before agreeing to do the job. Vera was given directions to the docks before heading off.

She has been using her phone to photograph evidence since the last time she borrowed Jerry’s camera, she accidentally broke it. Going back to her car, she headed over towards the docks. Parking her car a few feet from the pier, she started moving towards the docks, crouching and hiding to ensure any dock workers or criminals didn’t see her. She was keeping an eye out for any illegal activities.

While the reopening of Star Labs was somewhat controversial due to safety concerns of its future scientific developments, before it could be reopened at all it needed to be refurnished and rebuilt. While it wasn't exactly dilapidated (Jump City wasn't Gotham after all), the buildings of Star Labs had been empty and abandoned for some time, with most objects of value either being taken by the original owners, sold off when the company shut down, was looted by trespassers during its period of abandonment or simply left to rot and gather dust.

While Lex Corp almost certainly could afford to have construction crews from just about anywhere in the world flown in to handle the labor of being the labs back to structurally sound condition, it was simply cheaper and easier to hire one of the experienced local companies to do the work. The decision was also motivated by a desire for positive public relations; Lex Corp spokesmen being able to say during interviews that they was providing employment and money to local businesses might not have negated the controversy of the Labs and its history, but it did serve the purpose of making the whole situation more palpable to the officials of Jump City and thus more willing to go against the public outcry.

The fact that the company in charge of this construction project, Mistletoe Construction, was distantly owned by Lex Corp via complicated legal arrangements and business transactions was not publicly known. But in the public eye, appearances are important.

And it was the appearance of independence that Pandor was going to take advantage of.

Having slipped into Mistletoe Construction's primary office a few days prior, it had taken him a bit of time to work out exactly whom he needed to be watching; While one would automatically assume that he should have gone for one of the higher ranked members of staff, if not the CEO themself, but the realities of corporate culture meant that the people who actually did the work that allowed the company to function were generally a few rungs down the ladder.

It had taken a bit of searching, but in time he found that his target was a member of the financial department named Karen. Pandor had staked out Karen's computer in the form of a small spider hidden behind her neglected snack tub of mixed nuts from her latest doomed attempt to motivate herself to have a healthier lifestyle in order to learn what passwords he needed to know. Then, when Karen had to leave work early because one of her feral children had bitten another at school, her manager was pleasantly surprised when she came back five minutes later having gotten a call from her husband that he was on his way to the school and she could stay at work.

After that, it was simply a matter of writing out the billing information for the Star Labs job and emailing it to Lex Corp... after making a minor alteration to what account the money was meant to be sent to. The email was sent fifteen minutes before 'Karen' went on her coffee break... and wasn't seen again until the next morning when she came back into work, an event that would be filled with anger and confusion alike.

While Lex himself was regarded as a business genius and in truth might have figured out something strange was afoot that the bill arrived a day or two early, a corporation the size of Lex Corp almost certainly didn't have its CEO bogged down with dealing with what were effectively minor affairs such as dealing with a bill from a subsidiary company. The faceless office drone in question, once they confirmed that the price on the billing email in question lined up with what to expect and appeared to be a legit email from Mistletoe Construction (because it was), simply authorized the payment and went onto the next piece of business.

The payment itself did not go to Mistletoe Construction, but into a dummy account. It would not stay there long. It would go through a ripple exchange to have the fiat currency converted into e-cash and then into bitcoin. The whole transaction would go through a randomized cryptographic extension at the protocol level, then through a two tiered secure laundry service that Pandor knew he could trust. For all intents and purposes, the money disappeared into the ether once it was sent out and trying to trace it would be next to impossible... or at least so expensive and time consuming to do that it would honesty be better to take the loss at face value.

It would need to be, because if there was one thing Pandor had learned in his life, it was that corporations tended to hate losing money... and when they got upset, people tended to disappear.

As the sun filtered through the windows of his room in Titans Tower, Max Hudson, known to his teammates as the Violet Lantern, sat at his desk, surrounded by an array of art supplies. His sketchbook lay open before him, pencil in hand, Max happily scribbled away.

Despite the responsibility that came with being Violet Lantern, and a member of the Titans, Max found solace in his art. He could express himself freely without expectations or judgments. It made him feel good.

His current sketch depicted a landscape of Jump City. The view right outside his window. His pencil glided across the paper, capturing the intricate details of the city he called home.

When he was satisfied with his sketch, he stood up from his seat, stretched, and admired his work so far. It was coming together nicely, but he needed to get some food. Dressed in a purple tank top and pajama bottoms, he went downstairs to get breakfast.

He arrived just in time to see one of his roommates Trigger, and the team leader Robin entering. Max grinned and waved hello. “Mornin’ fellas.” He greeted cheerfully as he went to get himself some cereal and milk. “Anything exciting planned for today?”

Bob was quiet as he stared at one of the hardest challenges he had ever had to face in his life; highschool level algebra. He rather enjoyed the written word and numbers often made sense… but the combination of the two was throwing him for a bit of a loop.

While the difficulties of solving what X represented was generally a challenge that was shared by those Bob’s age, Bob himself was in somewhat… different circumstances than most. For starters, Bob wasn’t in a classroom, or enrolled
At a high school for that matter.

Bob was set up in his room of the titan tower, sitting at a desk that was specially made for his abnormal height and weight, working with a keyboard that had been scaled up for his fingers to properly make use of the keys as he slowly but surely hammered away at the problems on the screen from his online, remedial high school work.

Almost everything in Bob’s room had been specially designed with Bob in mind. It had to be. He was just… too big and bulky for standard equipment. If it wasn’t designed with being durable to his level of strength in mind, it tended to get broken rather quickly. Not because he wanted to break it, but because he simply didn’t have the fine motor control needed not too. He [i]tried[/] to be careful all the time but… well, all it took was a lapse for just a second.

Taking a deep breath as he finally felt confident enough in the current math problem to enter it, he glanced at the time and decided that was enough for now… before he got frustrated. It was time to go and have breakfast.

The residents of the kitchen almost certainly hear Bob’s arrival before they saw him. His bulk caused him to have rather heavy footfalls. When he entered the kitchen, nine feet of genetically altered humanity offered a warm smile as they reached up to carefully adjust their almost comical reading glasses with surprising care.

He was wearing a singlet that easily showed that just about all of the bulk in his body was working muscle and healthy fat. He had opted for a pair of black pants this morning… and on his feet were a pair of giant, fluffy blue rabbit slippers. “Mornin’” he offered in a friendly manner before walking over to the fridge and removing a whole carton of eggs.

Pulling out a large bowl, he started the careful task of cracking each egg open as he worked on his morning scrambled eggs… and tried to keep as much egg shell out of it as possible. Not because he couldn’t eat them, but just for the challenge of it.

The dusty, smoggy air lingered in his nose and made it curled as a blonde man leaned back against the wall in an alley. Eye carefully studying the landscape and layout with arms crossed.

Korbl Meier inwardly remarked to himself that there was far too much noise in this city. Was every American city like this?

While not a stranger, this was his first time setting foot on this side of the continent.

Though he bitterly remarked, it should've been in a much more joyous moment instead of his current predicament. His fist clenched tightly and his finger ran through his hair, a bit longer now alongside a small stubble on his chin.

Pulling on his own shirt and sniffing it, it was also starting to smell alongside the coat he had hastily stolen when no one was looking. Leading him to let out a weary sigh.

At least the blood hadn't caught onto his clothes.

There was so much blood-

Korbl shook his head and cleared it of intrusive thoughts as he looked onward to solving his current situation. He was after all an illegal immigrant and murderer. Staying low and blending was the right choice.

I'll need a job, a roof, and a passport.

He supposed that in these streets, someone must be looking for hire. Perhaps a club or bar? They probably have the least chance of rejecting someone from a sketchy background.

Cleaning toilets at worse and such is beneath him but he had nothing to lose at this point.

Except for one issue, his eyes hovered towards the alley and near the pipes of houses as one object stood out—a traditional one-sided sword in its sheath, almost like it's facing and mocking him.

Of all things to bring along by mistake, that was the worst. Yet it was his sword, the one he trained alongside that it might as well be a part of his body.

Damn his muscle memories, Korbl grumbled inwardly as he grabbed his sword and wrapped it with his coat before tucking it under his left arm. It just didn't feel right doing it since it'll slow the draw.

Still, looking at the skies and sun positioning, it'll take some time for them to start opening for business.

Best to scout around for which one that'll likely give him a job.

---

Close to the piers and water, it gave a nice view of the city ocean and from afar, a small figure of the famous and vaunted Titans HQ.

One person, however, took a far greater interest as they stood behind a telephone pole from afar as they tried to be as inconspicuous. It was only due to their lanky build that it helped boost the image.

Taking a look from afar, Korbl studied the club. It looked unassuming but all the information he gathered from a mix of booklets, asking around, and checking on the internet from unattended terminals, showed that this was a supposed reputable place.

Squinting his eyes, it didn't build any confidence in him but the place was clean, well-kept, and maintained properly. The location was nearer to the pier but he supposed that was because of the noise.

Although, it could also be because it's a convenient place to empty one's stomach after a night of heavy drinking. Korbl stayed a bit further from the pier railing when he spotted some stain of unknown origin.

From the closed doors, he gently rapped once and then twice.

A moment passed and he repeated the motion. Again, this time, finally caught some footfalls from inside and he straightened himself.

"Yea? What ya want?" What greeted him was a swarthy man bearing a red cloth wrapped around his head, barely able to contain the afro underneath his head as his sunglasses peered down at him. "Look, come back at 8, or don't, you look like you've been kicked out whi-"

"I need a job, will clean, carry boxes, anything." Korbl just got right to the point stoically as he pointed to the walls decorated with graffiti. "Can start now with that."

"Hell naw dog, it took me hours to get that shit correct!" The man yelled as he protectively stepped out of the door completely, showing the simple white t-shirt in contrast to his fashion-laden jewelry and necklaces. "Look here boy, you coming here looking for a job? You should've go start tossing newspaper, this here is a well-respected establishment you hear! And I intend to keep it that way!"

"I understand, and I don't plan to do anything. Just something I can do to help out-"

"Tut, tut, I got nothing else to say to you, so why don't you go and buzz off..." His words trailed off despite him about to wave off Korbl before pulling his sunglasses down to study him for a bit as his eyes flicked to the sides and saw his coat.

Does he know? Korbl hands tightened around his sword, he wouldn't be able to draw it in time, but he was confident he could strike the man down before the latter could move.

"Tell you what, you see those garbage bins over there? Move them to the recycling center and I'll pay you 50 for each one and you keep the change."

Korbl blinked at the sudden change of attitude but his eyes went to the aforementioned bins and it looked filled to the brim.

At least it look packed neatly enough. He rolled his shirt upward and tucked the coat behind his back, before lifting it to carry several bags full of trash. The sounds of clacking bottles and waste assaulted his nose but ignored it.

"And where's the centre?"

"That way." The proprietor thumbed over his shoulder, leading to quite a distant away as Korbl caught sight of it. It would'v taken a normal person about half an hour of back forth alone

Well, good thing he wasn't a normal person. Nodding, he quickly jog his way there.

Unaware that the owner was stroking his chin inquisitively before going back inside the club.

"Hey, someone continue cleaning this mess up. I got something important to do!"