Mano sat in a hotel room with his laptop opened on a desk while Nadie patiently listened to him onscreen.

“The Laughing Boys haven’t appeared in days,” Mano told him, “But we have gained the trust of the inner city and some ‘business partners’ have agreed to give us sizable percentages. Unfortunately, the Laughing Boys aren’t as active as they once were but so long as a few of those idiots keep showing up, our plan should work.”

“What of the Cavalier and his knights?,” Nadie asked.

“The Cavalier beat up a couple of our boys but they were only new recruits so the police don’t have anything. Once the Cavalier shows up, I’ll be ready to kick his ass a second time.

“In the meantime, the Metro Knights could be a problem. They are competition ideologically when it comes to keeping the loyalty of the inner city. We have to demoralize that group. Make their members join us instead.”

“The Knights run a soup kitchen every weekend. I have a few ideas of what I can do.”

“Of course you do.”

Michael met Terry at an Italian restaurant. The Laughing Boys activity had been almost completely online for the past few days and while he was itching to get another shot at Mano and his crew, he knew it was healthy for him to focus on his lack of a social life for the time being.

“You look good,” Terry told him.

“Thanks, you too,” Michael said, “Sorry again for being so busy lately.”

“No problem. So… What do you do?”

“I’m a graphic designer. A freelancer to be exact so I get to be my own boss and don’t have to go in to an office. That sort of thing. You?”

“Starving artist,” Terry laughed, “I’m currently holding down two jobs: I work in a Starbucks during the day and I do data entry at night but I’m really hoping to get into acting. It’s part of why I’m taking martial arts lessons.”

“Great. Have you done anything?”

“I did a commercial. You know the auto repair commercials with the talking alligator?”

“Yeah.”

“I did one of those. If you look closely, you can see me in the background with a green shirt and my back turned.”

Michael chuckled, “I’ll keep an eye out for it.”

“And when I’m not doing that, I’m just hanging out with friends, dealing with all their little drama shit. You know how it is.”

“Yeah…,” Michael got quieter, “I remember.”

“Remember? What, your friend circle stopped having drama? Please, tell me your secret.”

“It’s not that. It’s just… I dunno. As I got older, I lost contact with my friends from high school and university. I work from home so I don’t meet people often,… so I just kinda stopped having friends after a while.”

“Your work keeps you busier than I thought.”

“Yeah.”

Michael wanted to blame it on his new vigilante activities but he knew that was a lie. He had only been the Cavalier for a few months. His lack of human contact went back years but it was not something that could be easily discussed. He made friends easily enough when he was younger and was generally regarded as a likable person but he simply gave up on any relationships that weren’t either familial or professional. It wasn’t a conscious decision, either. It was something Dr. Ansari pointed out years earlier. His mother’s death and the issues with his father always seemed to take up all his emotional strength and because of secret identities, he was unable to confide in people with a few exceptions in the past. Maybe having a date was a mistake? He and Terry continued chatting over dinner but he knew he was coming off as boring at best and aloof at worst.

The following morning, Paul Kwon went into the church basement early in the morning to prepare for the soup kitchen. He was joined by Emily Koboshi, David and a few young students. When they arrived in the kitchen, they noticed Mano sitting quietly at the tables that had already been set up.

The Metro Knights froze. Aside from the fact the soup kitchen wasn’t open yet, it was meant for the homeless and lower income families and yet, this man’s expensive attire was obvious proof he wasn’t poor. Aside from that, the church had been locked, which meant he broke in.

“Soup kitchen isn’t open yet,” Paul told him cautiously.

“That’s fine. I wasn’t hungry,” Mano said politely.

Emily turned to the younger members, “You guys step outside and call the police.”

“Don’t worry. I don’t mean any harm,” he stood up and opened his jacket, “And I have no weapons. Search me if you don’t believe me.”

“What do you want?,” Paul asked.

“First, let me introduce myself. My name is Mano.”

“Your name is Hand?,” David asked curiously.

“In Costa Triste, Mano is also used as an expression for friend. And that’s what I am. I’m a friend to people who have been the target of hatred.”

“You have also been allying yourself with local gangs,” Paul retorted, “We know your game.”

“Yes, we have taken money from gang members. Now, how they get their money, we have nothing to do with that. What we do with our share is ensure people here are safe. Most of us cannot get a job here in the States and we have committed ourselves to this service so what choices do we have?”

“You’re using the Laughing Boy attacks as an excuse to weasel your way in and control organized crime in these neighborhoods: drugs, guns, trafficking… that’s what you’re after.”

“We haven’t participated in any of those things.”

“Not yet,” Emily spoke up, “Wasn’t it your group that sent a shipment of drugs to New York not too long ago?”

“There was a drug dealer named Big Fun in this city. We killed him. Is that the situation you’re talking about?”

“That’s not the whole story,” Paul clenched his fists, “The Cavalier told me you killed him because of a deal gone wrong.”

“If you want to take the word of a masked vigilante who sides with the cops, be my guest,” Mano tilted his head, “From what I understand, you have a long history of siding with those people.”

“That’s it. You’re done,” Paul waved him off, “Get the hell out of here and let us set up our kitchen.”

Mano smiled, “You can tell me to leave… or you can force me out the door.”

“We’re not fighting,” Emily told him, “Not unless we have to.”

“See, that’s ultimately what this all comes down to,” Mano turned to the young students, “Being a pacifist sounds great but sometimes, people refuse to listen. Sometimes, you have to take matters into your own hands. The Laughing Boys and other hate groups don’t listen,” he turned and pointed a finger at Paul, “Even your friend the Cavalier knows that to some extent. He’s beaten them in the street more than once… and we just take things further. The Laughing Boys he put away will get out of prison eventually. The ones I put away… stay away. That is the power of using force. Sometimes, it’s a necessary evil,” he stepped into Paul’s personal space, “So what will it be old man? Are you gonna force me out or just talk about it?”

“What I’m gonna do,” Paul began, “Is tell you to put on an apron because if you’re not leaving, then you’re volunteering to help out with the kitchen. That is,… if you care about the neighborhood.”

Mano smiled as he backed away toward the door, “Well played. But I don’t think handing out bowls of soup is going to help the next time some girl gets attacked,” he turned to the students once more, “Coming?”

Mano left through the backdoor. One student looked down, contemplating his actions before turning and leaving. Paul and Emily watched in disappointment. Then another student followed.