“How I Accidentally Moved to Torn City (And Became a Criminal Overlord… Sorta)”
So here’s the truth—I never meant to move to Torn City. I was trying to buy a plane ticket to Tahiti. Sun, beaches, drinks with little umbrellas. But I was drunk, broke, and apparently very persuasive to a shady travel agent named “One-Eyed Lou.” Next thing I know, I wake up in a shipping container full of questionable bananas and a live ferret gnawing on my shoelace.
Welcome to Torn City.
First steps? I didn’t step—I stumbled. Some guy tried to mug me within the first hour. Joke’s on him, I had nothing but a half-eaten protein bar and the ferret (whom I named “Captain Stabs”). The mugger ran off after the ferret bit his ear. I took that as a sign from the universe.
I joined a gym, not to get strong, but because they had free showers. Accidentally signed up for a cage match. Accidentally won. Apparently, rage-fueled flailing counts as “strategy” here. Someone handed me cash and a knife and said, “You’ll fit in.”
Now I’m running missions, trading drugs for plush toys, and stabbing people for respect points. I own a dirty apartment, a used motorbike, and I may or may not be dating someone who sells explosives.