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   Choken continued his pace through town, his eyes shifting cautiously from person to person. Some met his glances and stayed silent until he passed. His pace was close to a fast walk, as if something was following him and he feared drawing attention to himself, so he restrained himself from running.
    As he continued his journey, slowly losing his smug grin as he drew closer to the few markets. He stopped and ran his fingers through his hair and grunted, a thought now daunting on him. "I have been getting to annoyed by the news...shit...what do they even look like?" he thought, glancing about his surroundings. Disgruntled, he began to walk once more, now more causally.
    As he continued to walk, an obvious idea crossed his mind. Once again groaning at his own ignorance, he rubbed the back of his head and began to mentally try to map out the paths. "Which way to the orphanage. which way, which way..." He began to walk down the desired direction after a moment of debating, hoping his choice was correct.
    Soon, the boat came into view. Ken's smile returned as he took in the near apocalyptic sight. It looked void of life, which might have been preferable. Nobody to stand in his way while he tried to get some form of information. Anything would work. Maybe he'd luck out and find someone foolish enough to release information on the four. Thoughts continued to rush as he trekked along the beach, each step making an indention of his foot. The sand was fairly soft and a bit gritty, which would be a nice feeling, but he was preoccupied with work to enjoy the feeling.
    Once on the deck, he boat seemed even worse close up than at distance. Each step let an occasional board moan, almost like one of sheer agony. The smell of bander cut through the usual smell of the salty water, only adding to the scene along side the cawing of the birds that liked to stay by the sea. Stopping to once again scan his surroundings, he looked out to the horizon. Watching as the lowering sun peaked over the water, making each individual wave glisten like jewels. His ears perked at the sound of a voice calling out.
    "Uh...need some help?" Ken glanced over to the speaker and felt the sides of his mouth curl as he set his sights on a skinny goat that approached, but seemed to keep his distance. "Yes, actually. I was looking for two kids." he answered, turning to face the orphan, who probably wasn't much younger than Ken. The boy raised a brow and motioned for him to follow. "Yea, the owner of the place ain't here. So I am in charge until he gets back." he announced, proud of his self-appointed authority.
    "So what's your name?" Ken asked, trying to sound gullible. The goat sneered as he lead the stranger up the stairs. "Randy" he answered, as the pair reached a large, make shift tent. he lifted the door flap and cleared his throat. "Take your pick. And...you know. The payment goes to me. Of course." Randy added, feeling proud of his trick.
Ken glanced around the room, looking each one of the orphans over. Two short twins exchanged some what hopeful glances as he strolled past them, his arms folded behind him. Looking each one over, he stopped and snickered. "Oh my...I forget their names. My boss thought they were the cutest things ever..." Ken sounded, slightly peering over his shoulder to the boys in the room.
    "Who? Sure they're around here somewhere!" Randy inquired, using his best salesmen attitude. "I believe their names where Mace and Whip?" Ken replied, continuing his ditsy act. The orphans exchanged bewildered and confused glances. "Them? Why would you want two killers? Or your boss?" Randy asked. Ken turned around fully and chuckled. "My boss wants them." he said lowly.
    Randy blinked, struck by the customers odd request. "The twins are well rounded, nice. Why not them?" he offered, a sense of fear starting to grow. Why did he want the killers? What was his deal? And more importantly...how much could he scam this idiot for?
    
    Like a bolt of lightning, Ken bolted to Randy and seized the front of his shirt and lifted him off the ground and slammed him against the frame of the closest bunk bed. He may have been skinny, but he did have a good grasp. "That's not what I fucking asked. Now is it?" Ken taunted. He grabbed his knife and flipped it in the air and caught it, the blade running down his wrist and a portion of his fore-arm. He twirled it to the proper way and held the blade to Randy's throat. The already silent room was swept by an eerie feeling of terror. "Tell me where they are, or I'll go home with a set of goat horns." Ken warned lowly.

    Randy shuttered and looked to the others, who were as equally frightened. "I-I don't have a clue! B-but if you let me go...I-I can help you!" he pleaded, looking in Ken's eye, trying to make the attacker feel guilty. Ken raised a brow. "So, again. WHERE ARE THEY?!" Ken growled through his locked teeth. He pointed the knife outward and narrowed his sights down to the tip, which was still inches from Randy's throat.
    "T-they were around the Anduruna mountain!" Randy finally blurted out. Ken let him down to his feet and re-holstered his knife, then held his arm out in a "I told you so" manner. "See? Was that so hard?" he asked calmly. Randy held back a nervous sniffle and nodded nervously, dusting his shirt off. "Just get out of here freak show." Randy dismissed, avoiding eye contact. Ken chuckled and saluted like a boy scout as he began to make his leave, then he stopped, waving a finger and shaking his head. "Nah- ah ah...Just a minute." Ken added.
    Randy didn't have the chance to ask what he may have forgotten, as Ken suddenly grabbed his shirt once again and tugged him downward, toward the ground. Randy was stopped by the psychos knee that burst his nose like a tomato. A crimson liquid exploded from the scammers nose as he fell backwards to the ground. He covered his nose and squirmed backward, panting nervously and beginning to tremble even more in fear.
    "Next time? Give me the fuckin answer I want!" Ken snapped, before turning around and fleeing the scene. Leaving the boys in the tent still in confusion and terror.
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January 23
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