The last time Arthur had set foot in Manchester, he’d been seven years old. It had been thirteen years since then, and the place hadn’t changed a bit. He still hated the place. It was like someone had taken everything dull and dystopian about city life and made an altar to it. That was how he'd describe Manchester. Arthur was being biased. He knew that. He didn’t hate the place so much as the people he associated with it, his mother's side of the family. They were as traditional as they come and were much of the reason why his mother had suffered so much when marrying an American man. Arthur wouldn’t give the time of day to such prejudiced people, especially so considering how they’d abandoned him, but it was amusing thinking about how they’d react if he ever brought Iris home.A blue alien chick would fry grandma's brain.Arthur’s initial impressions of the city held some truth, though. The System's descent had not been kind to the place; many of the buildings on the outskirts were now piles of broken rubble. Nature had claimed the places mankind had failed to defend, and Manchester took the cake for the most post-apocalyptic city he’d seen to date. In the last three minutes, he’d witnessed three robberies and an old man getting lynched by a group of teenagers. The former, he allowed it to happen, but he couldn’t just walk by and let the old man die. Even with stats, a good enough beating could kill you.Saving the man wasn’t difficult, but it did take time. That was the one resource Arthur didn't have. Even the scant four minutes he’d spent here could prove to be his undoing. Renewing his stride, Arthur hurried to the city centre. That was where the Agroth family and his ticket to the fallen realm lay.With news of his death spreading through the bounty hunter circles, he was a lot safer now. That didn’t mean he'd abandoned caution altogether. The Faceless Mask adorned his face, currently in the guise (...)