What happens in Southville stays in Southville The sun was rising as Mike took a call from Schönberger. - Hey you tough guy, what's going on with you lately? You don't take my calls nor return them. Is there any reason why you are hiding from me? - Hello to you too, Schönberger. I have been busy working on something new recently. But I'll make things work. - Oh really? I don't really care what you were doing all this time. The last thing I need is to hear you talking about your hot air. - Cut it off! What are you calling me for? I have no time for such discussions and suchlike. Could you get you to the point? - My point is that we have to kill somebody off. His name is Domingo and he is Spanish by birth but he has lived here for the last ten years of his pathetic life. Your task is to catch him and bring to me. I'll take care of him. In return you'll get 10 grands. - You gotta be kidding me, Schönberger. What can I do with these 10 grands? I am not sure if I would even buy a tissue with this amount of money. - I knew you would say something like that. My offer is 35 grands and not a penny more. - Now you're talking! I'll accomplish this moronic task of yours as you wish. Where can I come across this Domingo? - He lives in some kind of a shed. It's south of the downtown on 21th Avenue. Get your ass over there and find him. All right, we are done. Bye. As Schönberger hung up, Mike began to think about his new task. Notwithstanding, he couldn't stand the darkness of the room he's been sitting in for the last 20 minutes and got out of the house. The streets of the Southville were full of the kids playing basketball. The people on the street were celebrating the newly announced win of the USA squad over the Brazil in the World Cup. Regardless, Mike was not happy at that moment. He felt a little out of the touch with the reality, he felt like he was some kind of spook walking on the street, but there was nobody he could talk to about his problems. And that was the reason why he was considering the possibility of quitting his sideline. The gravity of his problems were sometimes that overwhelming that his thoughts were getting suicidal. He had no family, no friends, not even a pet. Yet he was not a cretin. He knew that quitting his sideline would mean only one thing: Schönberger would attempt to catch him and kill. He couldn’t give up on this like that. He was aware that he had to conceive of anything that could rescue him. That's the first part of my story. It's filled with "patheticness" :D