Delivering for Some Money

"Here you go kid. I'll pay you when I get back."

"Whatever."

He held the box, looking down the long abandoned street of the ghetto. It would be the easiest job. All he had to do was deliver the box, and he would get paid. He needed to buy some new equipment if he was going to stand a chance in the tournament. He wore his mask, continuing to embark on his pointless journey.

He was entered under the name of a child's tale. The papers said his name was Yoshimitsu, the Immortal Hero of The Spirit Wilds. It was nothing more than a myth, and as they fought for the preliminaries, Yoshige would be making extra money.

He would continue down the road to the large apartment complex. It seemed to be a skyscraper, but to any child, so was any other building. He sighed, carrying the box. He looked down the read the label, wondering where he was going. All he saw was the building address, and the name and room number was smudged.

"Just my luck." he thought to himself. Only he would offer to help to deliver something to the unknown. But that would be the challenge. And if he wanted, instead of buying a weapon, he could most likely steal one. It wasn't the preferred option, but it was still a choice.

He could use the money to get a little head start on the competition. . . . if he wanted to.