"The reason I came here?" I leaned back on my chair, "I actually came to obtain information."
His eyebrows arched, "Oh?" He exclaimed, "Information on what? You should have just said so earlier, you know."
Yeah, right. Like you would have gladly given me the info. Even now, I doubt you'll give it out easily.
"On the external backers/supporters of all four major gangs of the backlands. And that means the Cyclo Gang is inclusive." I replied.
His arched brows furrowed immediately as he leaned forward, taking the chilerate off his mouth, and hanging it on his hair.
"And why exactly do you want this information?" The volume of his voice dropped low, coated by a slightly.. wary tone.
I knew it. I knew that this was exactly how he would react.
"I plan to completely rid the backlands of the tyrannical pests that trouble it. I mean, it's a first step toward changing the backlands." I replied with a voice as low as his.
He leaned backward, resting on his chair. Then he let out an exhale, rubbing his forehead.
"Since when? I thought you had no interest in things that won't be of benefit to yourself and your survival. Why the hell do you suddenly care about the backlands?"
My eyes widened.
"I… To be honest, I don't know. I don't know when it started. But.. I think it began that day. The day I decided to quit all and any gang activities." I spoke, and as I did, Mangé remained quiet, letting me drown in the silence. Then, I continued, "Yes, I'm sure it began that day. When I began to consider the lives of others around me. When I began to fathom the thought that… I'm not the only one fighting to survive in this world."
"Stel, I remember you quit because you became sick of people looking at you with nothing but scorn and fear in their eyes. The hell do you mean by this?"
"Yes, you're right. But if you think about it, I 'noticed' their gazes filled with scorn and fear. I realized that people had begun to fear me. That my infamy had begun to spread. To someone who didn't care about anyone but themselves, to someone who didn't even bother looking other people in the eyes, isn't that a major realization?"
"I… Guess you are right. In a way." He replied, "But still, that doesn't explain why you went from 'realization' to full-on 'change,' does it?"
Just tell me who the backers are. Stop it with the interview. Who are you, Li-Song?
"I didn't say that was the exact reason. It was actually when the dark lens with which I saw the world began to shift. Until that lens finally shattered, replaced by a new, fresh one. And the events that caused the lens to shatter? Well, let me just say that they're…" I paused, and both Mangé and I turned our heads toward the direction of the bartender who walked into the room from behind the counter, holding another bottle of — I pray not — bad whiskey. Then, we took our gaze off him, and I continued, "Logically impossible." I shrugged.
It was just a single question posed by Li-Song that caused the lens to crack. Two questions, actually.
And then the garden memory with my father.
Finally, Old Man Craffold's story. And come to think of it, it was the old man's story that caused the lens to completely shatter.
I've experienced a whole lot of heavy things for a backlands rat.
Now I wonder how Craffold's doing at h–
"Haaah. Fine. Fine. Fine." Mangé suddenly uttered, "So now you want to bring change to the Backlands, huh? Great. Our goals align."
"Yes, I guess they do."
"But let me tell you something. You'd better eliminate the thought of attacking the backers of the four major gangs from your mind. If I assume that the other gangs' backers have strength and resources equal to mine's, then it's safe to say that they are far too dangerous for one man, or even an entire major gang to take on, no matter how strong said gang or man is. And I'm planning on ways to bring said change without so much as touching them."
"That means it's confirmed that the four major gangs all have backers, yeah?" I asked.
"I'm not sure. I only know the backers of our gang, whom the former leader introduced me to. And I know that the Orned Gang must have backers too. Because they were destroyed by the Red Nightmare two years ago, and they still regrew. We were only 'The three major gangs' for a year before they, once more, rose to become a major gang."
I nodded.
I know this fact very well because I'm the one who destroyed them.
"And who are the backers of your gang?"
"Stel."
"Yeah?"
"They are dangerous."
"I didn't say I'm attacking them, did I? At least not yet. Not until I find out more about them." I replied.
Mangé let out a sigh, looking up at the ceiling as he closed his eyes, gritting his teeth.
"Aggh!! Fine!" He yelled aloud as he lowered his neck, opening his green eyes to focus them on me. "I'll tell you."
Bingo.
"Thank you."
"You'd better fight well today."
I let out a dry chuckle. "I will, trust me."
"That coat of yours." Mangé spoke.
My brows furrowed as the left corner of my lips curled.
Huh?
What now?
"What's wrong with the coat? You wanna repeat your spee–"
"Check the tag!" He yelled, pointing his index finger at the back of my neck.
I stood up immediately, taking the coat off my body, exposing my grey undershirt that hugged my skin as it flowed over my black baggy pants.
Then, I began to search for the tag he had spoken about.
"You should really shave that bushy beard of yours off. It isn't aesthetically pleasing." Said Mangé, for apparently no reason at all.
"Please, shut up," I replied, still trying to find the tag.
"You know the tag is at the neck area, right?" He asked, his voice dripping with petty, bubbling annoyance.
"The hell are you being so cranky for?!"
As I yelled, I checked the neck area of the coat, and I saw the tag.
It was a small, white material that was sewn to the neck area of the coat. And on the material, there was a name printed on it.
The name read, "Girolo Fashion." I uttered aloud.
"Yes, Girolo Fashion. That's the name of the Cyclo Gang's backer."
I turned immediately, my head, neck and gaze flickering toward Mangé. An utterly confused expression was plastered on my scowling face.
What the fuck?