Mad Dawg sat on yet another rooftop, looking back over the town. Another week had passed since he revealed everything, and there were… mixed reactions. Some of the Loud's believed him, and some thought he was insane. Considering that's how most people looked at Mad Dawg, this was nothing new to him. He was a bit disoriented, but simply kept moving forward, improvising solutions as he went. He had met up with Lincoln one more after their last encounter, mainly to apologize for how he lost it in the mall parking lot, but Lincoln had outright refused to let Dawg apologize. He was shaken up, but then again, when some random guy you've met twice suddenly screams in your face and holds you against a wall-

"Wow. I was kind of an asshole." Mad Dawg remarked, looking up to either the reader or the narrator.

Whatever. Mistakes were made on both sides, and Mad Dawg didn't feel like he had made an enemy that day, so that was a plus. Over the next few days, Mad Dawg decided he needed to find a place to live. This turned out to be much harder than expected.

"Okay, we just need to see some identification." The realtor had remarked, standing outside a small home next to Dawg. The latter of the two realized something: he didn't have any id that would be accepted in this world. This led to him having to start looking for the underworld or Royal Woods in order to find someone who may be able to help him get an Id, or at least set him up with a false one he could live by.

To his annoyance, the closest thing to an 'Underworld' the town had was a random drug dealer. Who got arrested ten seconds after Dawg met him.

This led him to consider doing something extremely stupid. One night he found himself out on the rooftop of a government service office late at night when it was closed.

"Am I really gonna do this?" Mad Dawg had muttered aloud. "Am I really gonna break into a government office to get false credentials so I can have a home and buy alcohol?"

Mad Dawg paused for a few moments, then simply said:

"Yup."

Mad Dawg moved over to the vent system and removed the grate. Finding it was continently big enough for someone as big as Mad Dawg to fit into. He crawled and awkwardly forced himself into uncomfortable positions for a few minutes until he saw what he was looking for.

"I found the computer room." He thought. "No! Bad Dawg! No! Bad reference!"

As Mad Dawg slowly removed the grate so he could slip down and sneakily make his way to the computer, he realized something as he pushed the grate out of its position.

What was holding him up?

"Oh sh-" Mad Dawg whispered before falling headfirst onto the floor, and face-first onto the grate. Laying there for a few minutes, Mad Dawg began to wonder if being legally old enough to buy a home and alcohol was worth all this trouble.

"If this isn't worth it, WHY ARE YOU WRITING IT!?" Mad Dawg hissed, still face down on the grate. Only to not receive an answer. Well, that was a lie, he did receive an answer, in the form of his bag teetering off of the edge of the vent he was hiding in and falling down and landing on his head.

"Ow…"

Slowly, Dawg pulled himself up and looked around. He knew this was going to be tricky. There was a security camera in one corner, and unless he shut it off, the bright light of the computer would give him away. Mad Dawg knew he had to do this quietly, find a way to properly subdue the security system and-

Shing!

Or he could just throw a knife at the wiring beneath the camera with reckless aim, and pray to God that it worked. Which somehow it did.

Using some of the equipment he still had, Mad Dawg managed to break the log in credentials on the computer and set to work. He quickly punched in a bunch of nonsense until he came to his name, this did give him a reason to pause. Sure, 'Mad Dawg' was his real name, and 'Kace' was his nickname given to him by Marcus and the others, but what should his name be?

"Kace Horatio Constantine." Mad Dawg entered, not knowing why he chose 'Constantine' but he thought it sounded cool. As he hit 'print' he snuck his way to the camera, and using a bit of electrical tape, fixed the break.

Then Mad Dawg heard a door being opened.

"Oh crap." He blinked, knowing he had about ten seconds before the camera came back on, he dropped and rolled back to the counter. The papers were just about done… But there wasn't time! He needed to go!

Seeing a flashlight down the hall, Mad Dawg grabbed the papers and cut the power to the computer, not even logging off properly. Grabbing the vent cover, his bag, and his new identity, he jumped and pulled himself back into the vent. Holding the grate in place, he watched as who he assumed to be a security guard walked in with a flashlight and looked around. He checked the computer, then checked under the counters. After a nerve-wracking few minutes, he seemed satisfied that no one was present and left.

Mad Dawg took off and didn't look back.

Now, he had leased a house nearby the Royal Oak mall. Mad Dawg had been cleaning out his bag (something he hadn't done in AGES) and found something solid and heavy.

"That's what she said."

To his shock, he had found two gold bars in his bag. He tried to remember when he possibly would've gotten these… Then he remembered the events in Deadlock Gorge. He also remembered he had stolen these bars back then, and had no idea what to do with them. So, after pawning them, Mad Dawg had more money than he knew what to do with. So, he made his house feel more like home. He picked up a record player and some vinyl that had cool covers (the music itself wasn't Dawg's deciding factor when he bought records), an assortment of RC car and drone parts and frames, as well as some wielding gear. The one thing Dawg hadn't gotten, and believed he wasn't going to get again, were his guns.

"Still, maybe that's for the best." He thought, opening a Phoenix Energy. Which admittedly, he had kind of become addicted to.

Back when he was rolling with Overwatch, there were two important factors: One, he was working with a government organization, so getting guns was stupidly easy, and two, he lived in the streets for a while. He grew up in some bad places, he wa surrounded by it. That made getting his hands on guns almost criminally easy. On top of the regular criminal-ness of buying black market weapons, that he had stocked his arsenal with, but who cares? When he died… He didn't bring his shottie with him.

"I'll miss ya Ol' Rusty…" Mad Dawg had sighed when he realized the sawed-off double-barrel he had for nearly a decade was gone, most likely destroyed in the explosion. Still, he ended up buying a chainsaw and a crossbow, because for some inexplicable reason, you needed to be over 16 to buy a hunting crossbow, and there weren't any licencing laws about using it. Heck, they didn't even bat an eye when he had bought his chainsaw, and several cans of gas and a few extra chains. He paid in cash, and that's all they seemed to care about.

Now, we were where he was at the beginning of the chapter.

"I'm on the roof." Mad Dawg commented, clarifying things.

Okay, fine, do my job… Regardless, Mad Dawg had been on the hunt for something for the past two days. A commodity he hadn't had since his previous life, a treasure he valued above all else, and would scour the entire town if need be to find it.

Tacos.

Mad Dawg looked at his phone, reading the map he had pulled up to a place called 'Lobo's Tacos', a small Mexican resturaunt that apparently had some of the best tacos around. Sure, Mad Dawg could've been spending this time trying to get home, or making friends, or learning more about where he was, but at the same time. Tacos.

Yes, Dawg kind of has a one-track-mind when it comes to these types of things.

Climbing down a fire escape, Mad Dawg continued walking through an alley way towards his destination. As he continued walking he listened to the calm sounds of the town life, honestly, he'd be lying if he didn't say he liked it here. Sure, things got off to a rocky start, and he was dead (presumably, the jury was still out on that one) but all in all, there was something picturesque about the town, like those Animal Crossing games Dawg played when he got bored.

"YES! TACOS!" Mad Dawg mentally cheered when he saw the sign for 'Lobo's Tacos' up ahead. He looked around, checking out what some of the other stores were around here. Nothing really caught his interest, aside from a used books and video store. Maybe he could find some b-horror movies there to watch while he was kicking it in his home. He smirked, thinking about the films like Terrorcuda and Curse of the Were-Shark and how absolutely stupid they were. But hey, they were good for a laugh.

Just as Dawg turned his attention back to the taco resturaunt-

WHAM!

The door flew open and hit him right in the face, breaking his nose.

"Agh! Damn it!" He yelled in pain, stumbling back as blood ran down his face. He looked up in anger and saw a man running off, and another man ran out of the store, yelling in Spanish.

"Holy- hey, kid, you okay?" He asked, his anger turning to shock when he saw Dawg.

"Agh… I'll live…" Dawg growled. "What was that estúpido running for?"

"The bastarda robbed me, came in and held me at gunpoint, he-" The man began but stopped when he saw Mad Dawg run off down the street, moving faster than he would've expected the kid to go. "…How…?" He muttered in disbelief.

The would-be robber looked over his shoulder and gasped when he saw a teenage not only running after him, but closing the distance. He looked back forward and kept running, kicking a garbage can over to try and slow him down. He didn't look back, and missed Mad Dawg jumping over it then rolling on the ground, then launching out of the roll. Ignoring the oncoming traffic, the man ran across the walkway, several cars screeching and honking angrily as he ran. Mad Dawg jumped onto the hood of one of them and jumped off, grabbing onto a light post and swinging off of it, remembering the free running he used to do…

Crunch!

…and the fact that he always sucked at landing. This was no different. Dawg went too far and smacked into a brick wall, falling onto his back and disorienting him. Groaning as he pulled himself up, he shook off the people who were trying to help him, and caught a glimpse of the thief running into an alley. Mad dawg began running again, not noticing that he began running on his hands and feet, his body beginning to change.

In the alley that the robber hoped would be his salvation, turned out to be a dead-end. As the man turned around, he saw Dawg skid to a stop and stand up, glaring death at him.

"S..stay back! I'll shoot!" The man cried aiming his gun shakily at Dawg. Mad Dawg blinked, then took a step forward.

"Do it." Mad Dawg challenged. "Shoot me."

"W..what?"

"Shoot me. C'mon, if you're threatening to shoot me, then shoot me." Mad Dawg replied, unnervingly calm as he took another step forward. The man seemed to be absolutely terrified now as Dawg slowly kept getting closer. But he didn't have his hands up to grab the gun, heck, he didn't even seem to be armed.

"Kid!" A voice called, a man a bit older than Dawg was standing at the end of the alley, seeming genuinely concerned. "The cops are coming, just walk away! You don't want to get hurt!"

"Nah. I'm good." Mad Dawg replied dismissively, waving a hand. "But thanks, anyways uh…"

"Bobby, Bobby Santiago." Bobby called, unsure of what to do. He and a few others were watching, but knew the thief had a gun, so while they needed to get this kid out of there, no one knew what to do that wouldn't get him shot.

"Thanks Bobby, but I've got this." Mad Dawg called back. "This dude couldn't shoot me even if he actually had a spine. He find a way to use said spine to try and beat people off so he could run and hide."

"A..ar…are you crazy?! Do you wan..want to die!?" The man shouted, trying to figure out who this kid was, and why he seemed to calm about having a gun aimed at him.

"I've died before, it wasn't for me." Mad Dawg shrugged, folding his arms across his chest. "Y'know, if you're gonna be a tough man and own a gun, you'd better be ready to use it."

Mad Dawg stepped forward again, now maybe six feet away.

"So. Why don't you prove to me that you're not all talk and shoo-"

Bang!

The man screamed in shocked when he realized he had pulled the trigger in a panic. He looked at Dawg, who stood with a blank expression, before looking down at his chest, a bleeding hole dangerously close to his heart.

"Huh, good on ya." Mad Dawg remarked, then fell backwards to the ground. There were loud screams of terror as everyone saw Mad Dawg hit the ground. The man breathed shakily, unable to comprehend what he had just done. He didn't see the garbage can lid come flying at him like a frisbee until it hit him in the chest, making him drop the gun and stumble back.

"Oof!" He wheezed.

"You just shot a kid." Bobby said, anger in his eyes as he walked down the alley. He had no idea who this kind was, but he seemed to be no older than sixteen he heard the sirens of police cars as several officers appeared, weapons drawn, one of them gasping in shock at Mad Dawg's body. "He had his whole life ahead of him, and you took that from him."

"I..i..i didn't mean to! I swear!" The man whimpered, clearly frightened for his life. "I…I just needed the money!"

"Is he…" one of the officers asked, looking down at Dawg's body.

"He's gone." Another said solemnly. "No one could survive being shot like that. Call the others, we need to preserve the scene."

"Dispatch, we have a one-eight-seven, victim appears to be…"

Bobby looked back to the main, absolute disdain on his face. Sure, this was some random kid he hadn't met before, but like he said, the kid was just that. A kid. Heck, he was trying to do the right thing and got killed because of it. Before Bobby could say anything else, a weird sound was heard. The two looked down to Mad Dawg's body, and saw something being pushed out form his chest.

A bullet.

To their absolute shock, Mad Dawg leaned up groaning in pain, then stood up. Everyone present stepped back in fright as Mad Dawg cracked his neck and looked down at the man who shot him.

"Okay. All I wanted were some tacos, but YOU just had to rob that ONE place!" He growled. "YOU had to lead me on a pointless chase, and YOU. SHOT. ME." His eyes seemed to shift to a twisted black and red colour. "NOW I'm pissed." He growled. Reaching behind him, he pulled his chainsaw out from… somewhere, and before he could prime it, realized there were cops there, and hid it again.

"Kid? How are you alive?" Bobby slowly asked.

"A single bullet can't kill me." Mad Dawg groaned. "But MAN did that hurt! Why do I keep forgetting bullets are painful!?"

"Uh, dispatch, cancel that last call." The Officer on the radio said in a what-is-happening-tone-of-voice. "Send… send medical. And… Just get here!"

By now, Mad Dawg's eyes had returned to normal, and he turned around to face the officers.

"Hi, my name's Kace, people call me Mad Dawg." He introduced himself as if nothing had just happened.

"Son, how are you standing?" One of the officers asked, still blinking to try and make sure he wasn't seeing things.

"That's a long story." Mad Dawg remarked. "Short of it is, I heal. Really fast."

"I can tell."

"Great. We done here?" Mad Dawg asked, now sounding annoyed. "Cause I really want some tacos."

"Son, we're not even close to done."

"Damn it!"

"And Lobo's Tacos will most likely be closed for the rest of the day while we figure out what happened."

"Damn it!"

"You're going to need to come with us, we need to make sure you're okay."

"Ha! That's what you think!" Mad Dawg laughed, before looking around and seeing there were no fire escapes or anything to help him escape to the rooftop and quietly muttrered: "Damn it…"

For the next half an hour or so, Mad Dawg, Bobby, and the cops tried to piece together what had just happened. If he was honest, Mad Dawg didn't want this to be spread around. He was trying to keep a low profile, he took off after the thief because the hero in him wouldn't let him stop. Plus, if he stopped him, then he could get tacos. Now, he was more concerned about the fake ID he had procured, and the fact that a bunch of cops had seen him get shot, then get back up.

"Okay, I don't have anything against cops, I mean. I'm white." Mad Dawg mentally mused. "But if they ask me to join the force, I'm not doing that. Also, dude what was with that race joke?"

You said it not me.

"But-"

"Hey, kid? What's your name?" One of the cops asked, bringing Mad Dawg back to reality, pulled down by gravity. "We have some questions for you."

"My name is-"

Mom's spaghetti

"My name is-"

What? My name is Who?

"I am going to stab you."

…I'll be quiet.

"My name's Kace." Mad Dawg said flatly.

"Full name?"

"Kace Horatio Constantine." Mad Dawg replied.

"Alright Mr. Constantine, first of all, why did you run into an alleyway after a man who was armed? Did he steal from you?"

"No." Mad Dawg shook his head. "I didn't know he was armed. Heck, I don't even know who that guy is. He hit me in the face with the door as he was trying to run."

"He's tellin' the truth." The man from the store, a Mr. Trejo, (Mad Dawg hadn't caught his first name) confirmed. He had followed not long after and was quick to tell the cops what had happened. "The kid got hit, then tore off running."

"Alright, why?" The officer asked.

"Miss…" Mad Dawg began.

"Diana." Diana answered.

"Right, Miss Diana, I took off running because it was the right thing to do. You're a cop, you see someone grab a purse, what do you do?"

"…try to stop them." Diana frowned, feeling honestly annoyed by Mad dawg's somewhat pandering tone. Then again, she had seen this kid get shot, so she was willing to cut him some slack.

"Shoot him. Right." Mad Dawg replied off handedly and sarcastically. "Er, sorry."

About forty minutes later, Mad Dawg had given the cops the answers they wanted. They still had many, many questions, but they didn't know how to ask them, or if anyone would believe their answers. After Mad Dawg was briefly examined by the ambulance that arrived, he was let go.

Mad Dawg cracked his back and sighed, looking around as if trying to figure out what to do now. Honestly, he wanted to go home…

"Hey, Kace."

Mad Dawg turned around to see Bobby was talking to him.

"You gonna be alright man? Need a ride anywhere?"

Mad Dawg paused for a moment. Now that he thought about it, he had heard 'Santiago' before… also, he may as well get a ride home.

"Yeah, sure." He nodded. The two began walking towards Bobby's car, as they went, the older man looked to Mad Dawg.

"So… this may sound weird. But my girlfriend mentioned that she met, in her own words 'Some weird guy named Kace'. Is that you?"

"Lori." Mad Dawg said aloud. "Lori Loud."

"Yeah, that's her." Bobby nodded.

"Then yes. That's me." Mad Dawg smirked. "But uh, between you and me, my real name's Mad Dawg."

"Wait. Mad Dawg?" Bobby asked, laughing slightly.

"Yeah." Mad Dawg smiled in response.

"No offence kid, but what kind of name is 'Mad Dawg'?"

"The name given to you by the people who find you on the street and take you in as one of their own." Mad Dawg answered as he got in on the passenger side of his car, Bobby however was left in silence before he finally got in.

"Hey, I didn't mean-" He began awkwardly.

"Heh, it's fine." Mad Dawg smirked. "They're my family, and it's my name. Say it loud, say it proud!"

"Well, Lori was right, you are weird." Bobby now laughed, releasing the emergency break. "Now, where we heading?"

"You know that chemical plant where they refine crude oil into gasoline? I live in the vents there."

"Um… I have no idea where that is."

"Neither do I! I live like six streets up." Mad Dawg grinned. Bobbly looked at him in confusion, then realized he was being lied to, and laughed as he drove off.

As the two drove, Mad Dawg listened to some music on the radio listening to the Spanish music. He smirked and let himself vibe out to it, thinking about… Jax. Man. That was someone he hadn't thought about in a while… Well, him and Sombra… Still, one of them helped create him, and the other tried to kill him.

"Okay, I gotta ask." Bobby finally said, as if he had been debating something for a few minutes. "How'd you survive?"

"You won't believe me if I told you." Mad Dawg chuckled, knowing how this conversation was going to go.

"Oh, c'mon man! You can't do me like that!" Bobby replied exasperated.

"Look, what's the point of telling you if I already know you won't believe me." Mad Dawg reasoned.

"Who cares?! Tell me!" Bobby insisted.

"I'm a mutant." Mad Dawg said simply, preparing for the 'No-Your-Not' run-around he was going to have to deal with.

"Okay, I believe you." Bobby nodded. Mad Dawg twitched and seemed to go stiff, before finally looking to the man driving.

"You… you believe me?" Mad Dawg finally stammered.

"Yes." Bobby shrugged. "I saw you get shot point blank, then the bullet was pushed out from your chest, and now you're sitting here next to me. You're either a superhero, a demon, or some sort of zombie."

"Brraaiinnsssss…."

The two laughed and Mad Dawg sighed, feeling relieved.

"Dude. You have no idea how much of a breath of fresh air that is. EVERYONE I talk to is like 'No, you're just a kid', or 'Dude, you need mental help!' or 'You killed my son, you-' wait. Not that one… But it's… man, it's nice for someone to just be like… sure, that's true."

"I'll be real with you kid, if I didn't see it happen, I wouldn't believe it. Even having seen it, I have like a million questions about this, but right now, I just wanna make sure you're okay."

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine." Mad Dawg nodded.

The rest of the ride back was relaxed, the two made jokes, talked about life, Mad Dawg felt like Bobby was someone he could genuinely rely on if need be. When they arrived back at his house, Mad Dawg got out and nodded.

"Thanks man." Mad Dawg smirked.

"Hey, Dawg. You sure you're gonna be okay?" Bobby asked. "I don't wanna leave you if you're suddenly gonna die from that bullet wound. I mean, my mom's a nurse if you…"

"Dude. Let it go." Mad Dawg laughed, sighing as he did so. "I'm fine!"

"Alright. See you around then." Bobby smirked.

"Later dude." Mad Dawg waved as he went back into his home. Bobby's smile slowly faded to one of concern. He took out his phone and sent a message to a few people.

Hey, that Kace kid? I met him. Someone should keep an eye on him. Seems like a nice dude, but I think he could use someone to talk to.

KK.

Sure.

You met him? I told you, he's weird right?

Yeah. He's weird but he's nice. I don't think he had a normal upbringing though. Still, nice dude. Likes tacos.

Yooo…. Tacos sound gr8! Let's get som3!

Lying on his couch, Mad Dawg flipped through the channels until he passed a news story, reporting on a man who had been arrested after armed robbery. Mad Dawg chuckled but kept flipping, he found a football game and figured it was good enough.

"Well, I failed to get tacos… FOR NOW!" Mad Dawg mentally declared. "Today, stopping a robbery and getting shot. Tomorrow, TACOS!"

Little did Mad Dawg know, getting tacos wasn't going to be easy…

A.N. And so, the quest for tacos begins! If you've read the story that came before this one, you might be thinking 'great… here's where he start's a story and then goes off on dozens of tangents…'. Not this time. I've got a few arcs, and I know how the story is gonna end. So, kick back, relax, fav, follow and review, and enjoy Mad Dawg's continued adventures!

Also, made a few quick edits here. Some of the terminology used by the Hispanic characters was wrong. My mistake, I didn't intend to do that.