Or maybe he’s deaf. Let’s go with that.
Heh. That’d probably help, yeah.
The fat old man didn’t budge an inch as Kid Win approached, forcing the boy to squeeze by. He made his way up, ignored a gang of fit twenty-something Asian guys who were standing guard in the hallway on the second floor.
I wonder how many of these people were part of the Acclimated Bastard Banterers, and how many of those were voluntarily so. This place is shady as fuck, so I wouldn’t be surprised if some of the people here had a gang background.
On the third floor, he headed past people who were sleeping on blankets in the hallway, found apartment 306.
The door opened a second after he knocked. A tired looking Hispanic woman greeted him, “You’re the superhero, I take it?”
I’d imagine Kid’s here in costume, so yeah, there’s a pretty good chance of that, ma’am.
“Yes. Kid Win,” he extended his hand. She shook it firmly.
“Ashley Medina. My son’s back through here.”
Lily, Sabah, Ashley… Wildbow’s on a roll with his names.
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