It was night in the city, stars invisible from the light pollution. While several skyscrapers towered above the horizon, the base of these rowdy teens resided in a rundown vintage restaurant hidden within the mazes of alleyways and short buildings. They often pick fights with other gangs, starting battles with nail-infested bats and crowbars.

But Javier's job was to make sure that anyone knocked unconscious was still... alive. Other than that, it was bandaging up wounds after the storm of violence. But at least he didn't need to hurt anyone!

At the moment, he was traveling back from a little supply run from the dumpster behind a chemist to see if anything useful had been tossed away. Some medical tape, and half a bottle of iodine. Better than most runs, to be fair. He made sure everything was within his backpack for the third or forth time and quickly jumped over a large puddle, remnants of the days' rain, shoes squeaking occasionally against the wet cobble.