3 days earlier
ZASKAR CORPORATION PRESENTS
THE 50TH BULLET OF BULLETS: 50TH ANNIVERSARY SPECIAL!
DETAILS INSIDE: PG. 20 (SEE FOLDOUT)
"Interesting," Sinon mutters to herself, replacing the magazine on its proper stand.
"I can help the next person in line!" comes an announcement from the register to Sinon's left.
Sinon pinpoints the register in question within seconds and pushes her grocery cart to the register. The cashier smiles at her while she begins unloading the contents of her cart and greets Sinon with a standard customer service greeting.
"How are you today, ma'am?"
"I'm fine," Sinon mumbles, not particularly in the mood for conversation. "Thank you for asking."
"No problem. Did you find everything you were looking for?"
"Yeah." Sinon practically tosses a box of frozen pizzas onto the belt. "Before you ask, I don't have a store card or coupons, and there's nothing at the bottom of my cart. What's my total?"
The cashier names a figure. "Are you paying with card or with cash?"
In response, Sinon pulls out a wad cash, ignoring the stares of the people in line behind her. "Here you are. This should be a dollar up; keep the change. Have a good day now."
Before she can attract any attention, Sinon gathers up the grocery bags, tosses them back in the cart, and practically sprints out of the store.
Her multiple Bullet of Bullets wins since "the incident that shall not be named" had won her enough money to live well for quite some time, but she still isn't exempt from picking up groceries like any other citizen of Glocken. Neither does that small fortune protect her from being recognized in public - a prospect Sinon absolutely despises. Her "retirement" from the public arena has gotten her away from the pressing stares of watching crowds and the stress that high-stakes competitions bring, but ordinary life has brought a different complication to her life altogether: being recognized and hounded in the streets by the masses.
Sinon finds herself whistling an American folk tune as she loads her groceries into her car. SBC Glocken was a microcosm of what the world had once been, a melting pot of different nationalities and ethnicities speaking different languages and introducing new customs into the mainstream all the time. American, European, and Asian cultural practices both clash and coexist at times, something that a few citizens of Glocken resent but a matter that Sinon has fully taken to her advantage. American folk and fiddle tunes were now some of Sinon's favorite musical numbers to listen to.
As Sinon finishes loading up her groceries, she notices a man in a suit standing at the entrance to the grocery store, arms folded across his chest as he scans the parking lot. He could just be a businessman waiting for his wife to finish shopping, or any other common enough scenario in an urban area. Something seems off about him, but Sinon can't quite figure out what.
Quit it, she tells herself. You're getting paranoid. This is why you left the Bullet of Bullets and the whole war games thing, remember? You thought everyone was out to get you. Stop it.
Sinon turns away from the man to grab her cart and take it back to the drop-off. The instant she takes her eyes off the man, an alarm sounds in her head, and every hair on the back of her neck stands straight up. She whips her head around to look back at the man, but he's looking to her right, his expression bored, his foot tapping on the ground as if he needs to get somewhere.
"Hey, lady!" A shout and then a loud BEEP of a horn blasts Sinon's ears two meters away. "Move outta the road!"
Sinon realizes with a start that she's been standing in the middle of the parking lot, blocking cars from passing in and out of the lane. "Sorry," she mouths at the incoming vehicle, then hurries out of the way, dragging her cart along with her.
Sinon returns to her car and revs the engine. The sound reminds her of a certain lightswordsman she once knew - a young man who had once made a mad dash with her through the streets of Glocken on a motorbike, and later saved her life in one of Sinon's first BoB tournaments by uncovering a conspiracy to murder participants. Sinon has not heard from him in quite a while, as the two fell out of touch years ago.
As Sinon pulls out of the parking space, she glances in her rear-view mirror at the front of the store. The man has disappeared.
It takes Sinon fifteen minutes to get back to her apartment on the east side of Glocken's market quarter. While the apartment complex isn't the prettiest of places, and Sinon certainly could've opted for a more upper-class residence, the apartment certainly does not leave her wanting for much. Compared to a good chunk of Glocken's population, Sinon lives in luxury.
"Good afternoon, Sinon," the front door receptionist greets Sinon as she steps into the lobby.
"Hello, Alaura," Sinon returns the greeting, foregoing her customary wave with her hands full of groceries. "You don't work Saturdays normally, do you? What brings you in to work on this weekend?"
Alaura shrugs. "I need the money. You know, bills to pay and all that. Oh, before I forget, you had some visitors drop by today, asking for you. I told them you weren't around but gave them your apartment number and told them to come back later. They asked me not to say anything to you, but they looked like the super official government types, so I figured it wouldn't hurt for you to know that some government people may be dropping by later today."
Glocken doesn't have a government...
Sinon's heart drops into her stomach, and she momentarily forgets about her groceries. "You gave them my apartment number?"
"I did," Alaura says. "They asked for it."
"Why?" Sinon leans across the front desk, momentarily startling Alaura. "Good grief, Alaura, is it company policy to just give out apartment locations of residents to anyone who comes asking?"
"I'm sorry!" Alaura's eyes are as wide as saucers. "They were wearing suits and had earpieces and no one dresses like that in these parts except for important people! They seemed to be in a hurry, and I was too scared to ask ques-"
"Did you ask for ID?" Sinon snarls.
Alaura shakes her head. "I didn't even think about that. I'm sorry."
Sinon gathers her grocery bags and drops them next to the front desk. "How long ago did they come through?"
"It's been several hours," Alaura says after checking her watch. "They should be long gone by now."
Glancing around to make sure no one is watching, Sinon subtly flips up her jacket and loosens the retention strap of her handgun holster. "Are you sure they're actually gone?"
"Yes," Alaura insists. "I heard an engine go off outside after they all left."
"I hope you're right," Sinon says after a moment of silence. "I don't know what a bunch of guys in suits could possibly want with me."
Alaura shrugs helplessly, eyes brimming with sympathy. "I don't know either, Sinon. But I hope you can get down to the bottom of it all."
"Thanks," Sinon says as she picks up her groceries and heads down the hallway.
One thing for certain could be said about Sinon's apartment: there was no lack of space inside. She had specifically requested a first-floor apartment, and the deal had been sealed as soon as she had taken one glance at the well-furnished space. Her apartment was a modern design, equipped with the latest in kitchen and entertainment technology, with spacious windows to let in sunlight and sleek wooden flooring.
For once in her life, Sinon's status as a Bullet of Bullets champion had come in handy. Once the apartment manager had connected Sinon's reputation to the name in the tenant application, he had willingly obliged her request to build a large vault into her apartment.
That vault now houses Sinon's beloved Hécate II as well as a number of her valuable possessions.
Sinon puts her bags down while she fishes around in her pockets for her keys. Her fingers close around a cold metal ring, and she pulls it out with a heave. After unlocking her door, she replaces the keys in her pocket and picks up her bags, shoving the door open with her shoulder.
As Sinon steps into her apartment, she quickly scans the interior for anything out of place, then breathes a sigh of relief.
"Good deal," she mutters to herself as she locks the door behind her. "Now I can finally relax-"
A shadow falls on Sinon from behind. Before she can reach for the handgun sitting underneath her jacket, a firm hand grips her shoulder and twists her around, smashing the side of her face into the kitchen cabinet. Something hard and cold sinks into her bare neck, and the five-time Bullet of Bullets champion collapses on the floor of her apartment, out cold.