Well, this is convenient, I never thought my life would end this way... my life has always been freakish, even from the start. Yet, this is how it ends... my body sinking deeper into the ocean, my life slowly being taken away by Death. Yet, the only question remains in my head and that question got me thinking for all this time on my stupid actions. The question that got me into this predicament.

...

How stupid was I to even have this Life?

...

Was it all just an obstacle?

...

An achievement?

...

Conveniently planned?

...

No one knows the answer.

...

Thus, why I'm slowly dying into the ocean. How did I get here? Funny thing really, let's start from the beginning. The very beginning...

...

.

.

.

Welcome readers, to my void. I am Narrow Gray, gladly to be at service as the narrator for this young man at the center of this space, a safe space, completely unreachable to any living thing. The protagonist, Preacher.

“What?” The said protagonist, -known for being the main character of this story, looked about in confusion with the voice he had heard, yet couldn't find the source of it. However, it does sound familiar, but he couldn't lay a finger on it, he shrugged it off for now.

He is a young man, born with multiple defects in his life. Such as… Uh- hmm...

The voice sounded unsure and the sound of shuffling paper can be heard as well as soft mumbling. Preacher still looked confused. Despite the fact, his eyes are replaced with a visor as the screen represent his eyes as two digital lines that switch to arrows every time he blinked. A question mark appeared on his visor as he observed the blank white area.

Thus, the only problem is that there is nothing to observe except himself for injuries or any abomination, aside his robotic hands, though that's an explanation for another time.

I know there has to be the information here… Oh no, it can't be shredded, can it? Have I shredded the wrong- oh heavens no- I did-!!

Preacher then began to get tired of wondering and decided on asking. “Hey,” He called out, thinking the voice can hear him.

What? I'm very busy at the moment-

“Yeah, sounds wonderful, I guess-” the sarcasm was paused as the man made an eye roll motion with his visor, he looked up, “-can you tell me where I am? Is there a door or a window I can jump out of?” Preacher asked, his volume increased, so he can state clearly on what he needed to hear.

...

“What?” The question being the main one apparently.

Can you... hear me?

The protagonist sighed, “yeah, I've been hearing your whiny voice since I got here, and what's that about my defects-?” He crossed his arms with a calm yet offended glare. “Gray?” He added to confirm who he's talking to, and he is not very happy.

Uh, my apologies-! Eheheh-! The information is shredded and unseen! Therefore, I am going to get fired for shredding it…

“Really?” He does not believe a word Narrow says.

... I can tell you don't believe me, but really, I'm being honest here. Em- How about a deal? I'll continue to narrate you without that part of the script and you say nothing about it, agreed?

He scoffed, “dude, you seriously think I'd put up for that? I'd rather get out of here, go back to my apartment and drink until I hopefully pass out and never wake up.” He walked off with a wave, leaving his spot to the right and then find himself returning to the same exact spot from the left. Or was it the front? He can hardly tell where he's going.

He kept at it for about 5 minutes, and he began to get tired of it already, “...****.”

Language.

With a frustrated groan, he glanced up with a look of annoyance. “Alright, I'll put up with that bullshit.”

Perfect, and also language, Preacher-

“But-” He raised his robotic finger up, “before I get in to this deal, tell me what I'm in for before I regret it...” The pale skinned man pointed out, he does not completely trust Narrow yet. The narrator have yet to achieve his trust before doing anything else crazy.

-sigh- Alright, you would be going through many scenes and adventures with this device I have in my hand-

“You have a hand?” Preacher asked, along with a snort.

TSK, excuse me, Mr. Protagonist. I'm trying to tell you, 'what you're in for' otherwise you'd wouldn't know and I'd be fired. Then they'd hire a new narrator, and I-

The protagonist mocked the narrator by snoring loudly, “... Oh? I'm sorry, I just fell asleep through your whiny tantrum.” He rolled his digital eyes, as well with his hands in his pockets. He doesn't really care about people that much which gave him an attitude.

-offended gasp- Ah, Excuse me-! I'm trying to do my job and if I don't do it properly, I would be fired-!

“And what does that matter to me?” He asked bluntly.

Well, Wise man, I'll regretfully tell you that when I'm gone, a new narrator will replace me and you'd be out of this world in an instant, and by that meaning. I meant, erased out of existence!

Preacher's visor went from digital eyes, to a loading animation and finally a 'meh' face. “So? Life is all crap for me,” He checked his metallic fingers without a care in the world.

'So' You're going to start over, an absolute reset button if you don't cooperate.

His visor did the same thing, except this time instead of a 'meh' face, it's an exclamation mark. He blabbered out, “THERE'S NO WAY IN HELL I'M GOING BACK THROUGH ALL THAT, ESPECIALLY PUBERTY-!!!”

Now do you want to cooperate? -hummed mockingly-

“Fine- fine-! Whatever, just say what you're going to say.” He groaned, getting very irritated with the narrator's tone in his voice.

Alright, as I was saying, with this device, I'll take you to different places based of the other scripts that are filled with many adventures. Each one different, however my part of the deal would be walking you through on what you're supposed to do and follow the directions stated on the scripts.

With a hum, he thought deeply about the last part. After a moment of silence, he asked, “Sounds easy enough... nothing too crazy, right?” Preacher glanced up for a response except all he got was a nervous chuckle from the voice. “Gray...” He called out more sternly this time.

Aha... well... you're going to be meeting up with a few people and the places you would be in can be dangerous and... you know, odd...

The visor on Preacher's face turned his stern look to an annoyed look, “you say that like I don't know what the **** is the meaning of odd.” He crossed his arms once again. He literally has a visor and robot hands, he is the definition of odd. Or so he thought.

No, no, no-! What I mean is that the world won't be ordinary. You know what, let's ignore about the worlds and talk about the people. Most of them are quite fine ladies.

This caught the man's attention, “ladies huh? They hot?” He pulled a Lenny face at the narrator.

Preacher, be mature about this. You're a 23-year-old man.

“And I act like a fucking teenager so deal with it man,” he shook his fist at the air to indicate that he is expressing it as much as he can. He never gets along with girls and maybe with this opportunity, he'll be able to pick up a girlfriend as weird as him. Won't that be something?

Just... -inhale- Don't dawdle with them too much and you're going to keep your end of the deal right?

Preacher scratched the back of his head with a hum, he could mess with the voice by doing the exact opposite of what he's suppose to do just like in one of those games he played. He snickered sneakily at the thought, however he rather not like the man fired and himself possibly having a total reset where every awkward moment as a teenager is infuriating. The man shale the thought away with a grimace. He hated his phases. “One catch... If I don't want to do some actions, you can't call me out. That way, I'll keep my end of the deal. Deal?” He gestured a hand out for the man to shake, it was meant to be a joke until-

-hummed- alright then, deal.

Preacher jolted when he felt a hand shaking his own. He pulled his hand away out of shock to feel that the voice actually shake his hand. “Whoa-! That's freaky-” He laughed a little. Although he was still shocked about a hand that he can't see, shook his own.

Certainly, I'm a narrator, I have my ways.

“Plus, that also proves, you do have a hand,” Preacher laughed more.

-annoyed sigh- Alright, I do have hands, be glad that I'm not allowed to interfere with you too much and not slap you about for irritating me like a tick.

With one singular clap of his hands, he rubbed them together as a meaning he's ready to get this started, “okay, Mr. Voice Guy, where we're heading first?” He asked, prepared on where to go.

Our first destination would be... Ah! A city, your coordinates would be in a dark alley. Sounds safe, doesn't it? It's a shortcut to some places and it's dark so no one would notice you come in or come out.

Once again, Preacher pulls a look of annoyance, “you never go out a lot do you?” He asked, tapping his arm while it is still crossed.

Er... No, not really... but it's better you than me!

“You little-” Preacher was soon snapped out of the void and was transported to another world.

This would be fascinating, yep. Oh yes, indeed. -chuckles-

The narrator had the scripts prepared as well as going to enjoy the man screaming in terror because this scene, Preacher is going to encounter an assassin.

...

One snap out of the void had taken the protagonist to a different location. It sounded simple but to the protagonist's point of view, it is merely:

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!”

Loud screaming when he was sent from the void to his destination, he had spawned to that said area. Preacher took a moment and lean against the wall, he felt nauseous from that transportation sensation.

Preacher was tempted to chunk his insides into a garbage can, he took a moment to get rid of this feeling before he decided to walk forward. He groaned softly as he glanced up at the dark cloudy sky. “You're enjoying this, are you?” He questioned, with a grunt.

I certainly am, thank you for asking. -clears throat- After the few moments of nausea, the protagonist decided to look around for any signs of life, other than rats and stray cats. His mind was filled with questions on what he's doing here instead of going about somewhere else, such as out of the alleyway.

“You know what? Actually, maybe I should get out of the alley, cause this isn't really worth it, man. If I have to go through puberty, I'll go through it a million times if I have to.” The pale skinned man hissed as he got away from the wall and stumble over to the alleyway to get out of there.

I wouldn't do that, Preacher sir. -sing song tone-

Preacher glanced up at the sky again, then stopped walking. He squinted his digital eyes out of suspicion. “You know something would happen, do you...? Our deal is that you'd guide me, Gray.” He pointed out, when he was looking up, he saw a figure on top of the building which turn his focus to the figure than the annoying voice in the plains of nothingness.

-chuckles- Maybe... As Preacher glance up at the sky, he can see a figure on the building, watching over him, he knows-

“B-but- it's a good kind of 'watching over me' right?” The man stuttered out of fear, backing up a tad bit to try to see the figure better.

Let me finish will you-?

The moment the narrator said that, the figure jumped off the building. Which startled the protagonist, making him jump out of his skin, as the figure landed a few feet in front of him. The ground cracked where the figure landed, their head was down before looking up to make eye to eye contact with Preacher, who backed up even more.

“Gray-” He called out for the narrator on what to do in this situation, each step he took going backwards is another step forward for the assassin.

Uh-! A-As I was saying, he knows he must run the moment the assassin spotted him-! Run-! Preacher-! RUN-!!!

He doesn't need to be told twice as he turned and ran like a cheetah is chasing him. Apparently, he's being chased by a human by the looks of it, but a human, who can survive a 4-story building.

Um... well, this is a start of the story, will our protagonist survive in the next chapter? I sure hope he will, I wish to not get fired when he doesn't survive this... that assassin was written to be ruthless and strong.

“YOU THINK-?! JUST TELL ME WHAT TO I DO DAMN IT-!” The protagonist exclaimed loudly, but tough luck earned him a brick wall, meaning a dead end. He's cornered by an assassin. The dagger in their hand proves this is not a joke.

Preacher is frozen in place as a hand grabbed his collar shirt and pushed him against the wall with a knife near his neck. His digital eyes turned to arrows, indicating that he's closing them tightly, so to speak. He rather not witnessed his bloody death.

“You're... dead...”

The voice uttered, close to a whisper. The dagger was raised and-!

To be continued

Oh lord, pray that I'm not fired...

Oh, you're back? Good, let me get you back to where you left off, shall we? -nervous laughter-

“You're... dead...”

The voice uttered, close to a whisper. The dagger was raised and-!

It stabbed the wall instead of Preacher, “dead stupid, if I'm wrong-!” the assassin called out in anger. The voice resemble more to a woman, more likely to be high-pitched. The protagonist slowly opened one of his eyes to look at her as she pulls off her mask, she was wearing to hide her identity.

Wait, he's not dead-? Oh, thank goodness... My job is safe...

Preacher scoffed at the narrator as he glanced over to the assassin. A baby faced, short haired blonde with piercings and her eyes are outlined with black eyeliner. For a moment, he thought she looks cute now that he has a good look of her face now.

When she noticed he was staring, she pulled out the dagger in a swift motion, startling the man and the narrator as well. “You're a dumbass to think that you should be out here, where you could've been mugged-! Or worse, killed-!” she pointed the weapon at him.

'Boy, she nags...' Preacher thought as he instantly pulled his hands up the moment she pointed the dagger at him. “Okay, okay- Jesus, lady. Watch where you swing that thing.” The poor man thought he'd be meeting some nice ladies.

However, the narrator didn't say some would be nice at all. He said lovely ladies.

Oh, my. Preacher had appears to be caught by an assassin. An assassin who protects the neighborhood since she's paid to attack her targets that was said to murder thousands in the apartment buildings. Hence, why she's staking out on top of the said building. Ah, scripts I didn't shred. Thank lord. -clears throat- her name is Connie, Connie Casanova. Tho her last name was misleading, she's known for her super human strength from a tragic past of hers. Appears to me like she is this world's Batman I presume.

The protagonist took a moment to glance at the sky and mouthed, “yeah, I noticed,” he glanced back at her once she put away her dagger. “State your name, because you don't look like my targets, and you don't look like the people in the apartments either.” she placed her hands on her hips.

She's also bossy, just so you know.

“Shut up, Gray.” he mouthed once again before clearing his throat and stated. “I'm Preacher. Sorry, I just stumble upon here ya know? Crazy stuff with drinks,” he half lied, he did stumble upon the alley due to a certain someone. He gave a mere side glance at where the narrator could be.

Oh, did I mentioned, she can smell a lie, even if it's half true?

Her hazel brown eyes squinted the moment she heard that lie. “Yeah, heard that thousand times before, now, tell me what were you doing? Because a moment ago, I never seen you get in or out that alley,” she interrogated, her arms crossed with a stern look, and she has a weapon if Preacher made the wrong move.

Alright, listen. Preacher-

'I am listening, dumbass-' The protagonist thought aloud. He was sweating, glancing about to see if there's by chance a distraction, so he could get away from this topic.

Just by your nervous look, I'm assuming you're listening. In a few minutes, the targets she was talking about would sound off a sound that would keep her distracted but there's a chance you could get hurt in this predicament-

“WH-!?” Preacher exclaimed, but he was instantly muffled by Connie when she hushed him angrily. “Shut. Up.” She glared, she tugged his shirt down to give him a straight forward warning. “One more peep out of you, I won't hesitate to turn you in as another one of my targets...” she threatened.

Oh! I see now. Since you two are deep in the dark alley, the lamp post merely lights up the alleyway only. They could see a couple more figures walking by, holding suspicious duffle bags. Connie squinted and then pulled the protagonist to a corner and pushed him near a pile of trash bags.

“Ow-!” he whispered and shouted at the same time. His ribs could've broken with her strength but to her, it's merely a light push. “You sit there, and zip it. I'll be right back.” she zipped her mouth as a gesture towards Preacher as she went and followed them to investigate.

The protagonist rubbed his chest in pain, “ow... no doubt she has super human strength, Gray...” He mumbled quietly.

I agree, although... you seemed... interested in her.

“Uh... I was, but she's not my type, a little bossy.” he shrugged. He lean back against the garbage. The pale skinned man doesn't care about the smell right now, though he's slightly worried he might get hurt here. Then again, he's not with her right now that she could possibly throw the man off the building if she's ticked just enough.

Any injuries?

The protagonist checked inside his shirt to see if there's any, gladly there's none, so he'll live. “Hell, that's how I'd describe. A light shove, felt like I've been hit by a chair...” he hissed softly, rubbing the part of where he was shoved.

But no lethal injuries right?

He scoffed and rolled his eyes once again, “dude, It's a small shove, not a gun shot.” He settled in the trash, blending in with other trash because he considers himself trash more than a cyber genetic human. Judging by the visor and the robotic hands.

Ah, good. My job will be safe after all.

“To Hell with your job to, why am I getting hurt?” He pointed at the sky.

Like I said, Preacher. Better you, than me.

He groaned in irritation, “Just Preach, the name Preacher sounds like I'm a priest or something...” he cringed and shivered at the image of himself being a priest. He committed too many sins to even being called 'Preacher'.

Preach T. Sheldon?

“My other nickname is PTSD but no one ever calls me that. Says its offensive or something...” He folded his arms behind his head as one leg was draped over the other… The protagonist mainly focused on the sky at the moment, wondering how in the world has it not rained yet. The moment of silence is not really a good thing, knowing there could be more assassins or murderous targets.

-scoff- I'm going to get some coffee, this could take long... -sound of a chair moving and footsteps slowly fading away-

“Later, Gray.” The man hummed.

After about 5 minutes or so...

The pale man had decided to doze off to pass the time, his visor showing a line of z's. Unexpectedly, he was shortly awakened by some sort of beeping noises. He started to grumble, trying to ignore it by blocking the sound off and get back to sleeping on the foul smell of decaying food waste and other disgusting garbage.

Then the beeping began to go faster until-

A loud explosion erupted from the wall, bursting a hole into it. Bricks are flying to different areas, debris scattered everywhere, what makes matters worse was that the protagonist is apparently underneath most of the rubble. A crack on the visor and two swirls indicates he's injured and almost unconscious, black liquid leaking out of his mouth. He groaned softly yet it was unheard because of the 4×4 vehicles drove through the hole in the wall, almost crushing the man underneath all that debris.

The sound of gunshots was heard but that's all he heard before he completely blacked out.

However, his salvation and possibly his death finally came around after losing her targets. Connie hissed at the damage that was ensued by those lunatic. She pushed the rubble away with a grunt, finding Preacher bleeding as well as his visor releasing sparks and needs to be repaired as soon as possible. The blonde scooped up the unconscious yet also injured man into her arms and sped off to her hidden fortress.

'I don't get paid enough for this bullshit...' She thought silently.

Meanwhile, …

A man, standing in a white room. The lights bright, you could barely see any shadows. The dirty blonde hair all sleek nicely, wearing a simple white collar shirt with a black necktie. His spectacles look stunning to his eyes as he's taking a momentary break from the irritating man. Out of all the other protagonists in the world and other worlds. His boss has to choose this one. He frowned a little, remembering what he was supposed to do and what would happen if anything goes wrong.

...

“A narrator? Ma'am, isn't there another job for me to do?” He jolted when he felt the gun to his back, sitting across from him is a woman in a suit. Messy and curly hair, an eye patch stitched on her right eye. “You put down all my other jobs for you, I have no choice but to give you this one.” Her thick New Jersey accent sent shivers of fear into his spine.

How did the man get here is with a couple of unfortunate events...

He froze once again. “Alright-! Alright-! I'll take this job-! Just... don't kill me ma'am...” he let out a small whimper out of cowardice. The boss took a small sip of tequila from her glass margarita. “Any more screw ups and whining, you're out and swimming with the fishes. The dead ones. If I ain't clear enough for ya.”

The moment she said that, her lackeys cracked their knuckles as well as a click of the gun at the back of his neck.

“Y-yes ma'am-! Thank you ma'am-” The man was cut off once again, “but. Yer name needs to be changed... from now on, yer Narrow Gray and nothing more. The last guy that tried to get his name back is in the basement getting fried.” she taps her fingers together, one leg over the other. He open his mouth to object, but he was cut off by screaming from below, and by the sound of it, he wouldn't want to be in that situation. That's all that it took for him to finally swallow his anxiety and compute. “Of... course... ma'am...” He nodded, standing up.

“I got ya yer first guy, odd fella' and his name is Preacher Tine Sheldon. That's the guy yer aiming for.” She lean back on her chair. The man's face went from relieved to worry. “What? But-” She cut him off once again with a hand firmly slammed on her desk. “No buts. I don't care whatever ya had to do with the guy, but he's going to be your first. Protagonist.” The boss snapped her fingers to alert her guy to bring in the things this new narrator have yet to achieve.

Another man with a mask and a strong figure of a body builder, had a few stacks of files and paperwork ready to be used for Narrow's job, he handed them to the smaller man with a grunt.

“Don't mess this up, narrator. Especially, since it's pretty easy, follow the scripts and don't get him killed or you're first.” That was the last thing she said before the man was transported with a strange device, he was sent to the white room where he had everything he would ever need. As well as the same device from his boss.

A digital clock was on his desk, 5 years and counting. Indicating he has about that much time to prepare for his first protagonist. He hoped his first job won't be too complicated.

...

And yet here he is. A few of his other scripts are shredded out of his careless endeavors and this so-called protagonist is a piece of work than he expected.

A moment of spacing out has cost him about 15 minutes wasted, he shook his head as he heard his smartphone ranged in his pocket. He picked it up, after putting his cup down on his desk.

“Hello? (...) M-Ma'am-! It's been a few years, um, how have you been? (...) Oh, no, no, no-! He's doing fine-! Swell even! (...) Nothing bad, just a few bumps but I'll make sure everything goes back to plan!” He heard the faint sound of explosion. Narrow sweated out of nervousness. “Um... Ya know what? I think my break is over, times are wasting, yes? Alright okay bye-!!!” he hung up quickly before rushing over to the microphone, putting on his headset and watched what's the commotion. He saw the debris and immediately felt like his life would end soon.

Oh, don't die yet...

Oh, don't die yet...

The narrator stated softly as he searched through his screen to find where they were out of worry.

Narrow wouldn't be alive to find another job if he can't find the protagonist. He left for a moment, just a mere second, and he lost him. Well at least he was gone for about 5 to 10 minutes. Give or take.

As the man flip to different places where this chapter takes part and finally found him with the assassin. He sighed in relief that he had found them and that Preacher is not technically dead, but more importantly is that he's alive, and his job is safe for another day.

The older man, -who is only a few years older than the protagonist-, mentally pat himself on the back for not losing them. He cleared his throat.

B-Back to our protagonist, Preacher was... oh lord... -disbelief-

The narrator, apparently had found himself back at a wrong time or noticed what was going on. What was happening was, Connie had Preacher's shirt off, not that it was anything... unprofessional that is. She's only doing it to disinfect and patch up the wounds that scattered among his body. However, that's not the first concerning thing he found out.

The most concerning part that there're small tubes connected to the pale man's arms. Small, singular tubes on each arm with dark liquid flowing through them. Although it won't really be a surprise, the man does have robot hands, Narrow thought softly;

'Thank god for not having Preacher wake up at this moment because otherwise more injuries would ensue, and he's not talking about debris,'

Speaking of the man, the sound of a soft grunt alerted the narrator. He saw movement from him.

To Preacher's point of view, his visor fully powered up and fixed. His memory card is perfectly safe, as well as his vision. “What-?” He was about to ask the woman patching him up at the moment on what was going on.

However, he earned a slap to the face.

“Don't ever. Go near a bomb like that again... anyone with common sense can hear a bomb beeping-! Why didn't you run?!” she growled loudly, with her hand wrapped around his neck, she didn't strangle him too hard. Otherwise, she'd be responsible for murder.

She was shaking him, making Preacher babble words and choking from lack of air from this crazy assassin strangling the lights out of him.

Oh, dear heavens-!!

“Lady-! Can ya- stop that-!” he coughed out as she finally let go on realization that she nearly killed him.

Once he was released, he flop back down on the sleeping bag he was on with a wheeze, turning to his sides, he coughed and once again winced at his freshly patched up wounds. Connie scoot back a little with a sulky huff. “God, you're so weak...” she blew a strand of blonde hair away from her forever glaring eyes.

Preacher finally breathe easy, he looked at her with his mouth open to ask her what the heck she was doing but immediately shuts it when her glare was combined with sharp gritting teeth.

Whatever you do... don't move...

“She's not a damn T-Rex...” The pale man glared when he glanced upward. However, he made a mistake by saying it to her face which earned him a fist to the side of his face, “care to repeat that?” she growled lowly, like a dog ready to chow down on unforgiving trespassers.

Or make any sounds-!

The poor protagonist grunted and groan lowly in pain, “Like I need a warning, idiot-” He may have a dead wish since she heard and immediately became offended, she kicked him in the-

Ooh... you should put ice on that...

Even the narrator couldn't witness that without covering his own crotch out of instinct. Preacher felt the air was kicked out of him, he wheezed as he fell to his sides with a groan. “If yer going to help my part of the deal, just tell me already dumbass...” He squeaked out of wheezing.

“Why you piece of-!” She was ready to kick him again until she heard rustling outside. Connie let out a frustrated gruff before she mumbled and head out to see what or who's nearby. Preacher sighed in relief as he glanced up again.

You're welcome...

If Preacher were to say something, he would probably say whatever by now.

I found the scene you're in at the moment, apparently she was supposed to get hurt during the explosion but nonetheless it's the same thing but the other way around.

“So? What should I say without making her ticked (off) than I did already?”

Women are a mystery to me as well, Hmm... however, there's a way for her to be nice to you. Just be nice to her back.

With that being said he glanced at where went off and then glanced back up again, “how? I think that cookie is all spice instead of sugar and everything nice.” He stopped himself from talking too much when he realized he rhymed.

Appears to me rhyming won't get you anywhere young man.

“That's not on purpose-!!!” he quietly yelled.

Then that's when she return, mumbling once again though she's not feeling up to small talk at the moment. Connie sat on a stool and began to sharpen her dagger, in Preacher's head indicated that if he were to say at least one word, she'd cut his head clean off. Or at least that's what he imagined.

... say something...

“Like what? She'll cut my head off?” He whispered enough for her to not hear. The blonde merely took few glances at him and went back to sharpening her dagger.

She might if you don't speak. Honestly have you ever spoken to women?

An eye roll was a reply, “have you?”

Jokes on you, I have spoken to women!

The man merely raised a brow with a look that says, 'yeah right.'

... only one but still, I have.

“You're not from around here are you?” She finally spoke towards the pale man. Preacher blinked, as the digital eyes focused on the dagger being sharpened. He gulped in nervousness, biting his tongue as he tried to choose his words wisely.

Just say you are, Preacher.

The man hushed him, as he thought of the right choice of words. “Yeah… I'm really not... how obvious was I?”

The assassin hummed, “quite, as well as choosing honesty. That's a good choice... otherwise I'll kill you.” Connie threw her dagger near him but thankfully it went past his head and stabbed the wall.

“... Can I at least have a reasonable conversation after being blown up, crushed by rubble and strangled?” Preacher sighed as he's getting tired of this near death thing he's going through.

Connie scoffed and she actually laughed. “There's nothing reasonable, in this city... People are crazy left and right, only those apartments are the people that are at least sane...” she crossed her arms leaning back against the wall.

She's a tough one... do not make any mistakes...

“Dude, this is a conversation, not a date.” He hissed quietly looking away from her. The blonde already noticed that this strange cyborg looking man has been talking to himself for the past minute, she began to conduct theories on if this man is crazy as everyone else or if he's talking to someone. She checked him over when he was unconscious and found no trace of equipment attached to him that relates to a two functioning communication device.

Preacher noticed she's been waiting for a reply, or, so he thought. Apparently she's only observing him. “Uh, what?” he asked dumbfounded. She merely shrugged, “nothing, just you look crazy talking to yourself.” This assassin has a look that says, 'I'm on to you.'

That's it- We're finished- you're going to die- I'm going to get fired- oh the humanity-!!!

'If you stop being a drama queen... let me handle it please...' he mentally groaned underneath his breath. “Okay let me explain... I've...” He trailed off as she raised a brow in question, waiting for his so-called explanation.

The protagonist sighed, “I've been sent here to do this stupid scene because of me being the protagonist and I made a deal with the narrator, so he'll keep his stupid job, so I can live my stupid life without suffering a total reset and go through puberty again.” He stated quickly, taking a breather.

As if Connie believed him, “alright... crazy man...” Preacher slumped his shoulders with a frown, he told her the full story but apparently it's not enough to convince her.

What will our protaganist do? Tune in the next short hours...

Few hours later of cooperating with the assassin...

In these last few chapters you may know, Connie has taken our protagonist hostage. Or... recruitment? I'm not completely sure either. However, she doesn't trust nor think Preacher is capable for recruitment that can fit her standards.

“Standards my butt man, is she on that time of the month- or something?” Preacher whined with a frown. The man was given some new clothes, which is merely a big t-shirt and knee-length shorts. Connie does have some common sense not to have him wear burnt and torn up rags, it's a wonder if she had killed someone wearing this shirt.

“Keep up that insanity of yours, I'll take you to somewhere safe and padded.” She called out from the outside. “Look- Connie- right? I'm not crazy- it's legit the truth.” he crossed his arms with a frown.

The assassin walked in, “well-” she paused herself as she handed him some Chinese take out she went to get in those hours, “-I'm not legit believing a word you say, now eat, so I can kick you out in the morning.” Since she lost her targets, she's going to get an earful from her client.

He groaned, as he grabbed his take out. Preacher grumbled softly, he is pretty sick of this protagonist thing but... apparently this is worth more than puberty for this pale man. By taking out the chopsticks, he fiddled with the food in there. The man took notice of the blonde's side view. Since she's not wearing her assassin attire, but wearing a sweater and some track pants. He had to admit her skinny body is cute, it matches up with her natural smooth skin on her face.

Ahem, Romeo, stop staring at the assassin. Also, I decided to rewrite the scripts and have this all figured out. I may get in trouble but... my boss never said anything about changing the script.

Preacher munched on his fried noodles. Technically, talking with his mouth full, however the narrator can make out what the man had said. 'No shit Sherlock'.

-scoffed- Manners, Preacher. You're in a lady's presence.

With that being said, Connie popped in a pill of some sort into her mouth as she took her bottle of water and drank it, swallowing the pill in the process. The pale man swallowed his food when he took notice of her taking a pill. “What are you taking, Blondie?” he asked, putting his now empty take out box aside.

She scoffed at him. “Medicine, duh.”

False, it's a drug to keep her strength on low during the day. In her description, she's considered dangerous to the public with her strength and her short tempered personality. However...

The narrator paused as to hear Connie coughed a bit. She covered her mouth to muffle them.

... It's slowly killing her. Very slowly.

To be continued...