The story we will witness is happening in the past. A story about a mechanic who works slowly, almost lazily.

  In the past, an entire year before Diff, Johnny and Clara joined. So these three won't be playing a role in this chapter. Let us get starting.

  Capitalo. The biggest city. The most populated city. But it has flaws. Many, actually. One of these is the furthest parts of the city are less important than the other.

  One of these further city part is sector 42. Sector 42 is like a small town with its own hospital and school. Own annoying neighbors and so on.

  A completely different city, far from Capitalo is one in charge of producing all sorts of alcohol. So huge trucks carrying alcohol are usual sight to see in Sector 42.

  Pat pat pat pat

  The sound of a pair sneakers running on the sidewalk. Who is running? And why? It's a girl, in grey jacket and a grey sweatpants, black sneakers. Average height, board shoulders. Light brown hair tied in a low ponytail.

  The ponytail swings witch each step. From one side to another. She takes a quick turn and opens a door and walks inside. Tony's auto shop.

  "Boss, I'm sorry. I'm late again." - She said, breathing heavily, one hand on the wall as she catches her breath.

  Behind the counter sits a tall fat man. Mid forties, a thick line of black mustache sits under his nose and above his upper lip.

  "Erica. This is the third time you are late this week. You know what that means?" - His voice friendly. But he doesn't look at Erica.

  "That it's wednesday?" - Erica asks. But almost instantly an empty can of WD-40 hits the wall next to her head.

  "One more mistake and you are out. You know I'm doing you a favor. I let you work here after your father got him and your mother killed by driving into a truck three years ago."

  "I know Tony..." - Erica says, looking down at the floor. Her fingers, fidgeting with her googles as the empty wd-40 rolls to her feet.

  "Go and clean up." - Tony orders.

  With that Erica grabbed a broom and cleaned up the place. She put everything back to it's place. And throw the empty wd-40 into the trash. She opened the garage door and sat down on a chair next to Tony. Who is just still reading a newspaper.

  An hour passed.

  Than two.

  Launch break.

  And after what feels like forever four men in suits roll a black car with tainted windows into the shop.

  They all wear a big coat above their suits. The barrel of a machine gun points out from under one of the men coat. He fixes it quickly. And steps forward.

  "Flat tire. Front two. Can you fix it?" - The man asked in a deep voice.

  Erica glanced at Tony for what to do.

  "Yes. It will take max two hours." - Tony confirmed, looking up from the newspaper.

  "We will be back in three hours." - The men answered and left shortly after with his men.

  "Routine work. Go and change it." - Tony said, looking back at the newspaper.

  If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  "Do you think they are?" - Erica starts before she gets interrupted.

  "Erica. We are mechanics. No matter who is the customer, we fix the vehicle." - Tony interrupts.

  Erica stayed silent as she got up and walked to the car. Her mind wanders to what will happen if she messes up. She is already on thin ice with Tony. And now this. She lets out a sigh as she squats down to change the tires.

  Three hours later sharp, they arrive back. They payed in a hurry and left. Even more time later Erica closed the garage door and cleaned up.

  Erica is now in the bathroom, cleaning the mirror. The loud sound of a door breaking down from it's hinges echoes through the workshop.

  Erica freezes and rushes into one of the stalls. She squats on top of the toilet and staying silent. An act that Tony thought her to do this when a drunk customer walks in.

  She stays silent and listens.

  "The car you fixed. It caused casualties." - The deep voiced man speaks.

  "You want what? Compensation? Fine. I pay back the price of your visit." - Tony says, in a surprisingly calm voice.

  "Rot in hell, you fatass." - The deep voiced man speaks again.

  Bang.

  Loud. And terrifying.

  In the other side of the workshop, the blue wall behind the counter got a new color. Beautiful red. Though it will loose it's bright color once it dries. Not really artistic, a painter wouldn't paint your wall like this.

  It has pieces of head remains on the wall. Slowly falling down the ground. Along with the bright red paint. Slowly dropping down.

  "Find the girl." - The deep voice commands.

  Erica's eyes widen. She looks at the door of stall. Before she can try anything the door in front of her opens.

  Black polished shoes. Also black pants a leather coat.

  Despite her curiosity of how this person looks, she keeps her head down.

  She knows better than to look up.

  "Pretty face. Could worth something on the market." - The deep voice speaks yet again.

  Then laughing, from the man.

  She looks up slowly.

  "Yeah. Random dirty rich would pay a pretty coin for cute servants." - Another man confirms behind the deep voiced man.

  They are discussing her future like it was just a way to get quick money. But what about Erica?

  Obviously she don't want to be a servant. She wants to be a mechanic. She grew a liking to cars when her father thought her about car engines.

  But it is all useless now. She will be sold.

  "I don't..." - Is all that she can let out in a quiet whisper.

  Before a baseball bat knocks her unconscious.

  Unfamiliar brown ceiling.

  An ugly ceiling. It's shit brown color could make anyone throw up.

  Erica touches her head. A big red spot on her head is burning like crazy. Like it was a miniature pit of hell

  What will happen now?

  Is the only thing Erica can think now.

  Today is not her day. She was late from work. Her boss is dead.

  She never really liked him. But he was the one who offered her a job. Out of kindness...

  Yeah...

  That's not like Tony.

  Whatever was his motive was. She feels grateful for the opportunity.

  I'm doomed.

  Erica gets lost in her thoughts. She sits up slowly. As she does she sees like six suit wearing foe lying on the ground. With a part of their head is swollen.

  Reddish, purplish spots on the face. Some have blood on them.

  In the middle of the room, there is a guy. Grey hair. Tall frame. Dark brown eyes and a nose that is slightly off center.

  Currently beating the living shit out of a suit wearing man. His strikes are fast, focused solely on the head.

  He wears a black shirt and grey sweatpants. His muscles flex under his shirt as he punches a right hook.

  And we lost Erica. She just openly stares at his flexing muscles with open mouth and a slight blush.

  Soon the grey haired stops punching from the lack of remaining enemies. He walks to Erica.

  "Are you okay?" - He asks, pulling out a white cloth to clean the blood off his knuckles.

  "Hey?" - He asks again.

  "Earth to the girl who stares." - He says again and reaches out to touch her shoulder.

  Erica finally snaps out of her trance. She looks around before speaking.

  "Yes I do." - She answers

  "What?" - He asks.

  Erica only now realizes that she already imagined the wedding. Maybe it was a mistake to read so many romantic novels late at night.

  "So, I'm guessing you are fine..." - He says before he turns around and starts collecting anything he can put his hands on. Guns, ammo, some had cash on them. Then he puts these into a big bag.

  Erica just stays on the bed and watches him do this. Work. Right, she is now unemployed... There is no Tony's auto shop without Tony. She rests her head on her knees, hand wrapping around her legs.

  "Are you some sort of super evil?" - She starts.

  "Super evil? No. I'm just completing a commission." - He answers as he pulls out a small folding knife from a pocket, and tosses it into the bag.

  "Someone asked you to do this?" - She asks.

  "Pretty much. Name is Paul by the way." - Paul answered. Standing up, throwing the bag over his shoulder and walking out of the room.

  "Erica..." - She answered, staring again at his flexing muscles through his undersized black shirt.

  A while later she stood up and walked out of the building.

  What now?

  She thinks. Hands in pockets as she stares at the sky. A great philosopher could make this scene very emotional. But she can barely hear her own thoughts in this noise.

  Literal meters away from her, the guy from earlier, Paul is looking straight under a grey, beat up looking car hood. A wrench in his hand as smoke in puffs from it. They are clearly trying to start this car.

  Erica instantly recognizes the car. An MT-600, known for being mass produced a while back and now the market is full of them. Cheap cars, but oh so many problems that would make any toxic couple jealous.

  Erica always wanted to work on a car like this. Before she could stop herself, she is standing next to Paul.

  She grabs the wrench and start to twist and turn something in the car near the engine.

  Then she twist down a cap like thing and looks into it. Then she puts it back. She straightens up. Pats the hood three times, signaling the driver to try again. It roars to life almost instantly. Erica closes the hood, hands the wrench back to Paul and walks away.

  Just as she is about to pass by the driver's seat. A hand reaches out, blocking her way. She looks inside to see a purple haired girl behind the wheel. Sunglasses covering her face.

  "Hey. Are you by any chance employed?" - The purple haired girl greets.

  "Hello... Yes I'm- No. I'm not anymore." - Erica answers.

  The purple haired girl pulls down her sunglasses. Revealing her violet eyes as she smirks.

  "I'm Yunyan, leader of the 1111th Division. And you, are very welcome among us." - The purple haired girl spoke.

  "I'm not the best mechanic..." - Erica tried to reason why she wouldn't join.

  "Life would be boring if we all were the same." - Yunyan reasoned back.

  "Can I grab my stuffs first?" - Erica asked, fidgeting with the bottom line of her shirt.

  Erica made sure to grab something important from the auto shop. A big bronze colored wrench. This later got modified to be a weapon.

  The big wrench, which she named on her first day of working. As Tony.