Magic gangster

The streets of Dustvale were alive with noise. Vendors shouted their wares, carriages rumbled along cobblestone roads, and children darted through alleyways, laughing as they played. But Rod walked through it all with his usual detached air, his thoughts a thousand miles away.

His mind was consumed by the weight of recent events: the looming threat of dark forces, his rise in the Viper gang, and his rediscovery of Carl. For once, though, his responsibilities were taking a back seat. He was simply wandering, letting the city's chaos wash over him.

That was when he heard it—a sharp, mocking laugh from an alley nearby, followed by the unmistakable sound of someone protesting.

Rod's instincts kicked in, and he turned toward the source of the noise. The alley was narrow and shadowed, but he could make out a group of four men, all wearing smug grins. Their target was a young woman, her back pressed against the wall as she clutched a bundle of papers to her chest.

"Come on, sweetheart," one of them drawled, reaching for her. "We're just having a little fun. No need to be so uptight."

"Leave me alone," the woman snapped, her voice steady despite the fear in her eyes.

Rod stepped closer, unnoticed by the group. He took in the scene: the girl's tattered dress, her worn shoes, and the fire in her eyes as she stared down her tormentors. She was outnumbered, but she wasn't backing down.

"Hey," Rod said, his voice cutting through the alley like a blade. "Why don't you boys find someone else to bother?"

The men turned, their faces twisting in irritation at the interruption. The tallest of the group, a wiry man with a scar running down his cheek, stepped forward.

"This ain't your business, pal," he said, his tone dripping with menace.

Rod shrugged, his hands slipping into his pockets. "Looks like you made it my business."

Scarface narrowed his eyes, clearly sizing Rod up. "You think you're tough? You don't know who you're messing with."

Rod smirked. "I could say the same to you."

The man took a step forward, but Rod moved faster. With a flick of his wrist, he sent a nearby trash can hurtling toward the group, its lid clanging loudly as it struck the ground. The sudden movement startled the men, who stumbled back in surprise.

"Get out of here," Rod said, his voice low and dangerous. "Before I make you regret it."

Scarface hesitated, clearly torn between pride and self-preservation. But when he caught the look in Rod's eyes—a look that promised violence—he made his decision.

"Let's go," he muttered to the others, backing away. "This ain't worth it."

The group retreated, muttering curses under their breath, and disappeared down the alley. Rod watched them go before turning to the girl.

"You okay?" he asked, his tone softening.

She nodded, brushing a strand of dark hair from her face. "I'm fine. Thank you."

Rod stepped closer, taking a moment to really look at her. She was young, maybe a year or two younger than him, with striking features and a quiet strength that intrigued him.

"You're not from around here, are you?" he asked.

She hesitated, then shook her head. "No. I'm… just passing through."

Rod raised an eyebrow. "Passing through Dustvale? Most people are trying to get out of here, not in."

She gave him a faint smile, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. "It's a long story."

"I've got time," Rod said, leaning against the wall. "Name's Rod, by the way."

"Li," she said, meeting his gaze. "And thanks again. Those guys wouldn't leave me alone."

Rod shrugged. "They're cowards. Only tough when they've got the numbers. You're lucky I was nearby."

Li's smile grew, and she tilted her head. "Is this your way of fishing for a compliment?"

Rod chuckled, surprised by her quick wit. "Not exactly. Just stating the facts."

They stood in silence for a moment, the bustle of the city filling the space between them. Rod noticed the bundle of papers she was clutching and nodded toward them.

"What's that?" he asked.

Li glanced down, her expression growing guarded. "Just some sketches. I… like to draw."

"Can I see?" Rod asked.

She hesitated, then slowly held out the papers. Rod took them carefully, flipping through the pages. The sketches were incredible—detailed portraits of people and places, each one bursting with life.

"These are amazing," he said, genuinely impressed. "You've got real talent."

Li blushed slightly, ducking her head. "Thanks. It's just a hobby."

"A hobby that could probably make you some money," Rod said, handing the papers back. "People pay for stuff like this, you know."

She looked up at him, a mix of gratitude and curiosity in her eyes. "You're not what I expected."

Rod smirked. "What did you expect?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "But not someone like you."

They fell into an easy conversation, sharing bits of their lives as they walked out of the alley. Rod learned that Li had come to Dustvale in search of work, only to find the city as unforgiving as it was chaotic. Li learned that Rod had been scraping by on the streets for years, though he left out the part about the Vipers and his newfound powers.

By the time they reached the edge of the market, the sun was dipping low in the sky, casting the city in a warm, golden light.

"Thanks again, Rod," Li said, her voice sincere. "For everything."

"Anytime," Rod replied, surprised by how much he meant it.

As Li disappeared into the crowd, Rod felt a strange sense of hope stirring in his chest. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he had something worth fighting for.