Andre had survived.
Unfortunately for Asphyxia.
The city had been peaceful for nearly three days.
Then Andre arrived.
The peace immediately ended.
Currently—
Andre was crouched on a rooftop.
Watching a bakery.
Not because he was planning anything criminal.
At least not according to him.
"I'm hungry."
A perfectly reasonable explanation.
A few moments later he dropped from the roof.
Walked past a display stand.
And somehow acquired two bread rolls.
The vendor never noticed.
Andre continued walking while eating.
A successful operation.
Several streets later he found himself wandering through a busy district.
Workers.
Merchants.
Travelers.
Nobles.
Everyone moved with purpose.
Everyone except Andre.
Who was mostly following whatever smelled good.
Then he noticed shouting.
A man was harassing two women near a street corner.
The women looked uncomfortable.
The man looked annoying.
Andre's eyes narrowed.
Not because he was a hero.
Not because he cared.
But because—
The man's shirt looked familiar.
Very familiar.
Black.
A black tank top.
Military pants with an almost identical design.
Only much more punk and awesome than the torn ones Andre has right now.
with a smile
Andre immediately changed direction.
Five minutes later—
The man was unconscious.
The women had left.
And Andre was wearing a new shirt and pants.
He looked down.
Perfect fit.
"Nice."
The unconscious man disagreed.