Unfair Trade

Through the Underworld
Tap, tap, tap. Step, step, step. Rattle, rattle, rattle.

Many people came and went through the shady streets of Desha, an island of perpetual night. An island of perpetual shades and dealings. Many members of the Underworld created temporary stand shops here in order to make deals with purchasers.

Ah yes, a perpetual night, just like his residence. Yet, Rena Argo clicked his teeth, eyes hovering over the notebook he held, which he scribbled in with extreme speed, hand and fingers flickering while moving. Over his face was some sort of gas mask. No one had been buying anything off him for a solid three hours, was it that his weapons got boring? Was it that he was a member of the Hunting Pirates?! Sure, people thought they just vanished off the face of the earth, but what the fuck.

Tap, tap, step, step, rattle-

"GOD. FUCKING. DAMNIT!" Argo bellowed, such that the words pierced through his mask and reverbered much like a shockwave, "CAN'T A DEAL BE MADE WITH LESS LOUD NOISES?!"