The Commoner Noble

On a city neither too futuristic nor modern, civilians paved their way through the streets as crowds each to certain destinations while the rain was pouring. The heavy splashing of the on the rooftops and on the streets made it hard to hear the conversations unless close by. Rain fell, pattering and formed puddles on the ground while some descended on the people who were without umbrellas to shield themselves drenching them. Coupled with the increased rain and the busy streets it was impossible to hear a cry for help if made not that it would be helpful in this city. The city in and of itself was a poorly maintained one with crime running rampant and murder occur on the daily.

Such a position did an old man find himself in, two thugs and huddled against and stabbed him. He was an elderly gentleman, old enough to have had grandchildren but appeared fit enough to be considered a middle-aged man. The two men with rough features on their faces on contrast, were actually noticeably young but developed those features because of the hard lives they have lived. 

"Give us all the Credits you have old man" demanded one of the thugs. He was shorter than the other, they both were wearing jackets that hid the weapons they carried. They each carried a blade sharp enough to cut a person just by just touching them the edge. The old man had his hands covering his wound that was stabbed by the short thug whose blade was still dripping of the old man blood. 

The old man collapsed on the wet ground; his whole clothing was wet from the rain and now the rainwater would seep into his clothes. It was at that moment that the two thugs saw what was under the jacket covering the old man.

They noticed the jacket itself was of high quality and the shirt, they punctured through was made of high-quality materials that would fetch for an exceedingly high price. 

"It must be our lucky day" spoke the taller one, grinning at the score they had. The victim of theirs was wealthy, a golden goose and he would make them wealthy too. "Oh, we hit the jackpot tonight man" added the tall one reaching out his hand to grab the old man who was holding back his stab wound. 

"Spare me" he said, his voice faint. 

He did not have the strength to speak loudly. He began to regret going to town unaccompanied by personnel, because that led him to be at the mercy of thugs.

He lived a sheltered life the past few years and never realised the state the city had become, foolishly thinking nothing had changed he ditched his security detail and came to the city in search for an old acquaintance and what he met was a cold blade puncturing him. He looked over to the streets, he saw people passing by not even glancing at him, everyone minding their own business. Just when he was about to lose hope, he saw a figure staring back at him. He could not see clearly but the figure was a young man under a large coat who was staring at his direction and at his assailants.

The two thugs began to punch the old man opting to just kill him and strip him of all his valuables. As they gave him a beating the hooded man slowly began to walk forward. Then his speed increased, bit by bit until he could feel his heart racing when he sprinted to the thugs, jumping he kicked the tall thug with as much force as he could muster sending the man flying away and crashing on a dumpster bin not too far away. 

The short one was alerted drawing his eyes to the new opponent, before he could draw his blade at the hooded man, he received two punches, two jabs that left his nose dislocated. The man unable to ignore the pain on his nose tried to soothe it only for the hooded man to grab him by the collar and threw him to the tall one who just got up. The impact sent the tall thug back down, and it was then that the man saw the blade that was dropped by the short one.

He reached for it, quickly grabbing it, he could hear his heart pumping so fast it was ringing on his ear. The tall thug was the first to get up and he drew out his blade. "You will pay for that, you fool" he cursed leaping to the man. He threw his hand holding the blade he swung it hoping to cut the hooded man but was unsuccessful. The hooded man tried the same and only slightly cut his arm inflicting minor pain on the thug. The short guy stood up still covering his broken nose so that it was two against one. The hooded guy was short in comparison to the tall thug but slightly taller than the short thug, so he was at a disadvantage against the two of them. He glanced back at the old man who was still conscious but savagely beaten and thought about running.

He did not come there to save the old man but was actually there seeking revenge against the thugs. The two thugs were part of a gang that had recently killed a good friend of his and he had been following them the past days because they were the ones who killed his friend. For days he could not find a moment for when they would be alone, and he would strike until now when they were mugging the old man. They were isolated and far from prying eyes and he thought he could take them out even if it cost him his life.

Returning to the present, he knew he would not get another opportunity like this, so he could not run away he had no choice but to fight, even if he was inexperienced. If he let them go, they would hunt him down until they kill him, he raised his arms in a stance to show he would attack. He took off fast towards them, crouched lowly and scooped up water in his hands which he threw at the tall thug's face, this gave him a chance to attack the short one who was still covering his nose. He threw his hand to his stomach with all his force and could feel an impact of the blade thrusting into flesh, he felt the warm blood dripping on his hand. 

"Fuck!" cried the short one abandoning his nose and he punched the guy so hard he flew a few steps back still blade in hand only for the tall one to swing his blade at him.

On instinct the hooded guy raised arms to block the slash however useless it was, he was cut clean. He could feel with how fierce the slash was the blade did make contact with his bone. He cried at the surge in pain he got.

He scanned the thugs and saw his handiwork on the short one, he stabbed him on the side of his stomach, it was a deep cut but not fatal. He cursed himself for missing because he knew he was in an even more disadvantageous position. His arm crying in pain as he held the blade with his other hand he observed his wound. It was red, his blood was spiring like a fountain, and he could see some of his flesh cleaved off. He looked down and saw red, the pool of red increased thanks to the water on the ground. 

He knew that he would not make it, he was unable to avenge his friend, but he had tried. His vision grew blurry as he tried to hang on to his senses.

"I'm going to fuckin kill you, you asshole" said the short one still covering his stab wound. "Stay your hand, he is losing blood. You will not get the chance to do it," replied the tall one who noticed the man losing strength and barely standing up. Just as he said that the hooded man collapsed on the ground splashing on the puddle of water with his blood. The tall thug laughed as his prediction was correct. He slowly approached the slowly dying body. "You should have not attacked us" he said standing over the body planted on the water, almost drowning because he could not lift his head. The short thug came over and proceeded to kick the fallen man over and over cursing him and then he stumped on him until the man fell unconscious.

"Hey stop, we have business to attend to before it's late" interrupted the tall one when he saw the old man who was barely conscious. "You didn't think we forgot about you, did you old man?" he asked mocking him.

They walked to the old man and before they could get within range to strike him dead, the short thug stopped moving. He remained silent like a statue. "Hey man, what's your problem" complained the tall when he noticed the short one stopping. Without a word, the short one went on his knees and face palmed onto the ground and it was then that the tall thug saw what had happened. On his back was a burn wound, typical for those shot with a laser gun. It was an instant death sentence. He turned behind them and saw figures their hands stretched out with guns on them. He knew what would happen, and before he could act, the men rained hell on him, killing him on the spot. The two dead bodies lay before the old man and the unconscious hooded man who was near death.

The armed men made their way to the old man and helped him up. "My lord" they spoke lifting him, he was wounded and in pain. The old man glanced at the unconscious man who was face down on the ground, fortunately he was not drowning. "Bring him back with us" he ordered. "Yes, my lord" replied one of the men.

***

The young man opened his eyes, he was in a strange room. He was curious where he was, the last thing he remembered was facing against two thugs trying to avenge a friend and the next thing he cut severely cut and lost a lot of blood. Thinking about the wound he examined his arm, there was a scar but everything else was fine, he was healed. He became shocked how was it possible for a wound as severe as his, to heal so quickly.

He got up from the bed he was resting on. It was a metal bed, which he was used to, but this one was different in that it was fancy. It was built elaborately with medical tools mounted on it, they seemed to be tools used by the rich. When he thought about it the room that he was in was strange too. Everything was orderly and clean, with machine apparatus on the walls along with monitors on screens around the room. There were items and appliances that made the room feel more homely than a medical bay he was used to and on top of that they were expensive looking.

He checked the clothes he was wearing, a white vest and grey track suit pants, its quality was an indication that it was used by very wealthy people. 

"Where am I?" he wondered scanning the room. He got up from the bed and tried to walk to the door ahead but found his body was too weak to move. At that moment he heard a voice.

"Good morning, Wein Serin," said the voice. Wein the young man was startled, he searched around the room and did not see anyone. "Who is there?" he asked frantically searching the room thinking he lost his mind.

A purple light flickered on a screen of a monitor not too far from him. "I am Astra, an AI that was responsible for helping you heal from your wounds" replied the voice. Wein could tell it came from the screen. "Where am I?" he asked. "You are in the residence of Baron Neilson Albetron Voss" replied the screen monitor. "What?" was all Wein could utter.