The morning air over the slums was thick with metallic dust and the faint smell of oil. Broken pipes leaked steam from every corner of the street, and the sun barely cut through the layers of gray clouds overhead. It was always cloudy in this part of the city —almost as if even the sky was ashamed to shine on the slums.
Leo and his boys—Levi, Nick, and Vince—carried a huge empty sack between them as they walked toward the massive wrought-iron gate. Today was junkyard day, and like every week, dozens of other slum boys were lined up in front of the gate, waiting for it to open.
Even with the crowd, Leo stood out. His hair, dyed black, fell over his forehead in an attempt to hide the natural white streaks that sometimes showed when he sweated. His pupils were dark now, replaced with non-suspicious black lenses to disguise the enhancements he'd received as a child. He blended in with the other scavengers, just another desperate teenager trying to survive.
Levi, the shortest of the group, had natural white hair and striking red eyes. He constantly tugged at the oversized shirt that drooped off one shoulder. Nick was tanned from working countless jobs under the sun, with messy curly hair bouncing with every step. Vince was tall and lean, always wearing that sleek tech visor over one eye—even though it didn't work. But wearing it made him feel like a tech expert, which he definitely wanted to be.
All four boys stood silently as a uniformed man approached the gate. His brownish and bluish-gray uniform was wrinkled, and his boots were covered in dust from the junkyard. He carried himself with the laziness of someone who had repeated the same speech for years.
"Alright," the guard shouted, clapping once to get everyone's attention. "You all know the rules—but protocol says I have to say it again."
Everyone groaned internally, but no one dared make a sound.
"Three hours. Return before time's up. Don't hide anything in your pockets. If we find contraband or stolen goods on you…" The guard paused, sweeping his gaze across the crowd. "You're banned permanently. And trust me, you don't want to lose access to this place."
He pressed the red button next to the gate.
Slinnnn—
The massive gate slid open sideways, metal grinding loudly. A gust of stale, dusty air blew out from inside.
Leo and the boys entered with the crowd. Before them spread a massive junkyard—like a scrapyard graveyard stretching endlessly. Mountains of broken parts, rusted machine limbs, cracked screens, melted weapons, and mysterious tech scraps towered into the air. Some piles were as tall as buildings.
The junkyard was privately owned, making it far safer than the illegal dumps outside the city walls. Even though it was filled with waste, plenty of valuable items were buried deep inside. Contractors hired slum kids to scavenge once a week, on the condition that everything valuable was sold directly to them.
No exceptions. No arguments.
Leo and his boys moved fast. Slum kids didn't survive by being slow.
The moment they reached their assigned area, the four boys split off and started digging through piles. Their hands were quick and calloused from years of scavenging.
Leo sifted through a mountain of broken metal objects. He found several dismantled gun parts—mostly useless, but even scraps could sell for a small amount. He tossed aside a bent barrel, pocketed a trigger assembly, and kept rummaging.
Just as he turned over a heavy slab of metal—
His hand froze.
There, buried halfway under a sheet of discarded armor plating—
A gun.
A real one.
White. Sleek. Smooth. With glowing RGB-like circuit lines running along the frame. It looked futuristic, almost like a weapon from the upper city sector, not something meant for slum hands.
Leo's breath caught for a moment. His fingers trembled slightly as he picked it up, holding it carefully.
He immediately whistled—a very specific rhythm only his brothers knew.
Within seconds, Levi, Nick, and Vince appeared at his side.
Leo motioned for silence, then slowly showed them the gun.
All three boys stiffened. Their eyes widened as if they were staring at a rare mythical creature rather than a weapon.
Vince's jaw dropped. Behind his tech visor, his eyes shined like a child watching fireworks. "No way… That's a Harpie. Basic model, sure, but still… Most gangsters in the city use these. It's called the Beginner's Gun."
Leo nodded.
Nick swallowed nervously. "Big brother… we can't take this outside. They check everything. If they see the gun…"
"They'll seize it," Levi said quickly, finishing the sentence. "Or worse—if we're caught hiding it, they might break our legs and ban us. Forever."
Leo's brain worked quickly—calculating risk, timing, distance, escape routes.
Then he looked at Vince.
"Can you dismantle it?"
Vince grinned. "Watch me."
---
The Garage Office — Junk Inspection
After an hour of scavenging, Vince approached the checkpoint, clutching his sack.
"It's only been an hour," the guard said. "You sure you want to leave early?"
Vince forced a sickly smile. "Feeling sick…"
The guard squinted at him. Vince looked perfectly healthy.
"I'm at my limit," Vince insisted brightly. "I might poop right here."
The guard recoiled instantly. "Oh hell no—get out! Don't you dare drop it here! Move!"
He quickly checked Vince's sack—seeing nothing suspicious since the Harpie had been fully dismantled across multiple boys' sacks.
"Alright, go! Hurry! And don't come back until you're clean!"
Vince sprinted away, holding the bag like a precious treasure.
---
Half an Hour Later
Leo approached next.
"You're leaving early too?" the guard asked. "Still half an hour left."
"SOMEONE left before me?" Leo asked casually.
"Huh? Just a kid who looked fine but claimed he was exploding," the guard muttered. "Anyway—let's check your stuff."
He rummaged through Leo's sack. Used bullets. Broken tech. Scrap parts.
"Used bullets are worthless," the guard said with a shrug. "Only good for melting down."
He waved Leo through, never noticing the unused Harpie bullets hidden among the junk.
One by one, the rest of the boys left without suspicion.
---
Inside a Narrow Alley
In a small hidden alleyway, Vince quickly sorted the dismantled parts from each boy's sack. Slowly, piece by piece, the Harpie began to look whole again.
Their plan worked perfectly.
Meanwhile, Leo emptied his sack and separated the bullets.
Ten bullets.
Vince gasped. "Ten? It's fully charged!"
His hands trembled as he loaded the bullets into the chamber. The Harpie hummed faintly to life.
Before the boys could celebrate—
A shadow stumbled toward them.
A crooked man, gaunt and jittery from drugs, appeared holding a knife. His grin was twisted, eyes unfocused.
"Well, well… What do we have here?" he hissed. "A gun?"
He stepped closer, swaying. "Hand it over."
Vince panicked and pulled the trigger.
BAM!
The bullet missed completely.
The crooked man flinched, crouching in fear. But when he realized he wasn't hit, he started laughing hysterically.
"HAHAHAHA—you little rats—!"
BAM!
This time, he took a step forward, starting to laugh again—
Then collapsed.
Blood pooled from his chest.
He hadn't noticed Leo had taken the gun.
For a moment, everything was silent.
Then—
"Hell yeahhhh!!!"
"Wooo hooooo!!"
"RUN RUN RUN!!"
The boys shouted with pure adrenaline, laughing and panicking at the same time as they ran away.
None of them realized…
High above, a tiny mechanical insect hovered silently, its wings buzzing.
Its lens zoomed in, tracking each boy's face.
Text appeared in its vision:
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Targets identified…
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