Benny dug around casually inside a tall garbage can in the fancier part of Sunset City, humming to himself as he shifted aside a pile of crumpled gift wrap and discarded shopping bags. He looked right at home even if he shouldn’t.

Tall and slender, his fair skin had that faint, eerie pallor that always hinted he was definitely not fully alive. His hair, a chaotic mess of purple and green, stuck up in weird angles from too many all-nighters at the computer. His round glasses kept sliding down his nose, catching the faint glow of his violet eyes ,eyes that shimmered like LEDs in the dark.

Tonight’s outfit was classic Benny: a green-and-purple overall shirt thrown over a graphic tee, dark skinny jeans, purple-and-blue high tops, a dark blue bracelet, and mismatched purple-and-green earrings. A chaotic color palette, but somehow it worked.

“Jackpot territory,” he murmured, lifting a cracked but still very expensive-looking laptop from the bag. “Rich people always toss the good stuff.”

Beside him, Max the raccoon he absolutely claimed was just a pet and not also his crime partner stood on his hind legs like a tiny, furry lookout.

Benny grinned. “Max, buddy, we’re gonna eat good tonight. Fancy stuff means fancy money.”

Just as he said it, the sound of footsteps echoed down the quiet street.

Both Benny and Max froze. The garbage-can lid gently closed with a clunk.

Slowly, they peeked around the corner, eyes wide, scanning the sidewalk to see who was coming.