Brandon sat still on his bed, his face contorting in fear. He had to interrogate William? If the doctor refused to speak up, Brandon doubted he could beat the answer out of William. Moreover, if the doctor was truly guilty, Brandon couldn't really bring himself to execute William. But if he didn't do it, those monsters would keep haunting Mika and Millennion. Then he remembered when William taught him how to walk with a prosthetic leg. His smile... His patience... His encouraging words... Sometimes, William felt like his big brother. Perhaps another organization or a traitor within Millennion forced him to commit crimes. No. He had to get rid of his kind heart now; otherwise, Mika would suffer more or even die. Looking ahead, he gave Norton …show more content…
He placed a palm on his face, his eye glistening with tears as the image of William changing his bandage flashed in his mind. He used to take care of me! "Brandon," Zach called, snapping him out of his daydream, "rest up before Boss sends you to interrogate William. Your wounds will heal faster that way." With a slight nod, Brandon lay back down and closed his eye. One had to be in a gang to have a better chance of surviving in the streets. The seventeen-year-old Brandon was one of those people, although he never really liked what his friends did to keep the gang alive. Harry dated women and slept with them for money, while Kenny and Nathan earned a living by robbing some helpless civilians. Luckily for Brandon, he still had the chance to earn money in a more peaceful and honest way. The alleys of West District often contained treasures; at times, he could even find watches and rings in the trash cans. He only had to bear with the odor of rotten food. Tonight, equipped with rubber gloves, he visited the alleys again. Rats and cockroaches scurried as he approached one of the trash cans. After removing the lid, he inserted his hands into the heap of rubbish and began rummaging it. Tap, tap, …show more content…
Preparing the cast cutter, he added, "I bet your arm is fine now." Brandon nodded with a broad smile. "Brandon," Biscoe suddenly called from the bench, drawing the necrolyzer's attention, "the scouts haven't located Dr. William. However, you'd better check West District. They saw a giant crow flying around that place earlier." Brandon nodded again; this time, he sported a stern face. "I'm counting on you." Biscoe stood up. As he walked past Brandon's bed to pick up the necrolyzer's prosthesis, his phone rang. He picked it up. "Good evening." Although Brandon couldn't comprehend whatever came from the phone and Biscoe remained calm, the necrolyzer's heart pounded hard and fast. Mika is in danger, he noted in his mind, trying not to shudder at the bad feeling. "All right. I'll tell him. Thank you for the information." Biscoe hung up the phone and returned it to his pants pocket. After picking up the prosthetic leg, he told Brandon, "I have bad news. My scouts spotted a suspicious car heading to the hospital." I knew it. Brandon returned his gaze to the fiberglass cast around his forearm. Zach was still cutting the cast, which made Brandon grit his teeth and growl in annoyance. Can't you be faster,